


Pellis

by Hotaruxfirefly



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Drugs, F/M, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Rough Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:48:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 59,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23118007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotaruxfirefly/pseuds/Hotaruxfirefly
Summary: During the opioid epidemic, a city secludes itself to become the capitol of the addicts. Justin who's part of the police force finds himself investigating a peculiar homicide, while his new partner carries secrets he couldn't possibly imagine. They can't trust each other, yet Justin is determined to solve the case either way.
Relationships: Emmanuel Macron/Justin Trudeau
Comments: 37
Kudos: 35





	1. Angel

“You're assigning this pipsqueak to my case?” Justin scoffed, tempted to throw his feet up on the chief’s desk, but knowing he’d be reprimanded if he did so.

“Your complaint is irrelevant lieutenant, we’re understaffed, however dissatisfying you may find it, the decision has already been finalized.” Chief Merkel answered sternly, not bothering to contemplate the lieutenants concern. 

“Why can’t Brooks take him? I have no use of him!” Justin objected, scouting the surroundings for his coworker. 

“Brooks got a handle of her case, plus a handful of detectives already familiar with the material. You, on the other hand, are lacking a partner. Give detective Perry a chance. I expect the two of you to get along well.”

“But-”

“Stand down lieutenant. Your objections are baseless.” Merkel said, shutting down the discussion. 

Justin tilted his head to the side, spotting detective Perry through the glass walls of the chief’s office getting his hand stuck in the printer, awkwardly laughing it off, as onlookers hurry to his rescue.

“You have got to be kidding me…” He murmured to himself, leaving the office with a frown on his face. “Perry!” He yelled, signaling for the detective to follow him. 

“Lieutenant Trudeau,” The chief added, before Perry caught up to them. “No bullying allowed in the workplace.”

“Can’t promise anything chief…” Justin answered, eventually flashing a wink at Merkel, before she walked back into her office.

“Lieutenant! I’m honored to be your partner!” Perry beamed, with the posture of a chihuahua.

“Uh… right,” Justin sighed. “have you read the reports?”

“Yes, all of it, including notes!” Perry answered, looking as if he was expecting a pat on the head.

“Get a life,” Justin scoffed under his breath.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, we’ll discuss the case further in the car.” Justin answered.

***

“You’re going awfully fast lieutenant…” Perry stammered, clutching his seatbelt. “It’s well above the speed limit.”

“Boohoo, what’re you gonna do, call the cops?” Justin teased. “Relax Perry.”

“S-so we’re headed to the butchers shop to question Mr. Kerr, and potentially request a search warrant if we consider him a potential suspect?”

“Right you are, Watson. ” Justin smirked, stepping down harder on the throttle.

“Actually, my name is Axel, b-but you can call me Watson if you want to!” Perry stuttered, failing to understand the reference.

Justin simply looked at him with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to focus on the traffic, though still well above the speed limit. Perhaps willing to crash, and end the suffering.

“God, I swear I’ll-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the police radio broke off the awkward tension, channeling the voice of the chief.

“I’m gonna need you to turn around,” Merkel started. “You’ve gotten assigned to a new case. Larger scale than the drug trafficking case you’re currently on.”

Perry’s phone pinged and he immediately fidgeted with his pockets until he found it, turning to Justin when he’d read it.

“The address,” He said, holding up the phone for Justin to see.

“Why am I not surprised…” Justin mumbled, making a U-turn much to the dismay of the other cars on the road.

***

Saeva street. The city was not big, but it housed a huge number of social outcasts. No one with a choice would spend the night. It was unsafe, and unholy in every sense. Prostitutes on every corner of the street, but never too far away from Saeva street. Never too far away from the base, to which they would run, an affordable distance for their fragile heels and malnourished bodies. The polluted air acting as a shield, when they flee the dangers of the city, running like elegant cats when they move through the alleys they know so well. It was a heavily industrialized area, functioning as the junkyard of the country. The home of the homeless. Sunshine didn’t exist here, only grey fog and sticky rain. And in the center, a skyscraper proudly tearing through the clouds, light in every window, like the lighthouse of the city. The police headquarters. Like a church in a godless world. Understaffed and despised by the citizens. 

“Shinzo,” Justin said, approaching the head of forensics, with Perry right behind him. “Tell me about the victim.”

“Female, mid twenties, appears to have been attacked by some kind of animal.”

He bent down, pulling the zipper to the side, to reveal a young woman with gaping flesh wounds. Nerve and muscle torn from bone, to dangle at her limbs. Blood smeared across her face, eyes wide open in horror.

“What the hell kind of animal is capable of doing this…” Justin sighed.

Perry instantly clutched his stomach, faltering as he made his way to a corner. He began to vomit violently, trembling.

“Who’s the rookie over there?” Shinzo asked, pointing his gloved finger at Perry. “Oi, no tampering with the crime scene!” He yelled.

“My chihuahua,” Justin answered, with his arms crossed, and a look of disgust on his face.

“I see. The body will be taken to the morgue shortly for examination.” Shinzo said.

“Right, I’ll take a look at the crime scene.” Justin answered, fixing his gaze at Perry who was still curled up in the corner. “Go wait in the car.”

“I’m fine, I can help-” Perry protested, wiping his mouth in his sleeve.

“I said go wait in the car.”

Justin’s demeanor had changed. He was no longer teasingly annoyed, or cold. Of course the circumstances had also changed, and Perry had no choice but to obey.

“Yes lieutenant…”

Needles would tend to tarnish the ground in the drug infested city. It was indeed the capital of the addicts. Justin felt the sharpness under his skin just looking at all the contaminated syringes. It was simply nauseating. The ground felt soggy under his shoes, from blood mixed with god knows what, bringing the level of disgust to a new high. The sky reflected a lighter shade of grey, indicating that the sun had risen. He decided to let the forensics finish their report and analysis of the crime scene, making his way back to the car. 

“Stop sulking,” He sighed, not bothering to look at the mopey chihuahua to his right.

***

“Where’s Perry?” The chief asked.

"I think-”

“Doesn’t matter, he’s off the case.”

“Oh hallelujah,” Justin sighed, excited to be working alone. “Good luck telling him that.”

“Actually, I’m going to let you deliver the bad news.” Merkel answered. “I’ve got some matters of my own to attend to. Meet me in my office when you’ve spoken to Perry.”

“Fine, but if he starts crying, I’ll have to jump out the window.”

“I see,” Merkel said. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that then.”

As The chief went back into her office, while Justin went out to find Perry, she kept her eyes locked on the teal gaze following the lieutenant steadily. She closed the door behind her in a slow movement, then turning to the young man sitting on her desk. 

“He should be returning shortly,” Merkel started. “As I told you before, he’s quite stubborn, not to mention difficult.”

***

Justin grabbed the metal door handle, shivering slightly as the cold traveled up his wrist. As he was about to open, indistinct chatter could be heard through the barrier, making him slightly more cautious in his movements before opening the door. Blue eyes of a stranger lay heavy on him, as if condescending. He fought off a frown creeping its way onto his face, trying not to appear hostile. 

“This is your new partner.” Merkel said, her voice cutting through the tension. “He’ll be working here until the case is solved, and then he’ll be returning to Washington. Think of it as an internship.”

“Since when does anyone willingly take an internship in this hell hole?” Justin asked with a furrowed brow, sensing something truly out of place.

“It’s not an actual internship. Detective Macron has not yet been allowed to claim a promotion as lieutenant in Washington and before he can do so, he’ll have to be on trial here until the case is solved.”

“Then why don’t you just assign him to Brooks’ case, and he’ll be out of here in no time,” Justin proposed dismissively.

“Don’t make this difficult lieutenant,” Merkel answered sternly.

Justin decided to take another look at his - soon to be - partner. Slight curly hair dipping elegantly across his bright teal eyes, throwing sharp shadows to match his prominent features. He was wearing a black button up shirt, exposing his collarbones, and a coat reaching his thighs. The way he was sitting on the desk, hands between his inner thighs, clutching the edge of the table. He obviously was not going to be a pushover like Perry. 

“Sure, fine,” Justin sighed. “We’re heading to the forensic pathologist in about 20 minutes.”

“Great, then you can familiarize detective Macron with the staff and surroundings.” Merkel answered. “Start with Brooks out there, I think she’s sleeping.”

“Got it, let’s go.”

Justin stared at the woman in front of him, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully. She was wearing sunglasses even though it was clear to anyone that sunglasses are irrelevant where the sun doesn’t shine. Slumped back in her chair with one foot on the desk, and another dangling from the chair, she was breathing quietly. He reached over, and carefully started sliding the sunglasses down the bridge of her nose till they landed in her lap. 

“Someone wants to die,” She snarled, as her eyes shot open. “Oh what’s this?” She smirked. “You brought me a toy.”

“Pleasure to meet you lieutenant Brooks,” Emmanuel answered, returning the calculating smile.

Justin instantly paused in his movements, not quite prepared for Emmanuel’s voice and oh- 

A lisp.

His voice was deep, elegant, hypnotic. How did he manage to make a lisp like that seem so...

“Don’t be shy honey. You get to call me Morgan,” She purred.

“Let’s just stick with ‘Lieutenant Brooks’ for now.” Justin interrupted, snapping out of his thoughts before he trailed off. “He’s on my case now, so please don’t interfere.”

“Boohoo, you’re such a bore,” Brooks complained. 

“Right, we’ll be heading to the technicians now.” Justin answered, gesturing for the detective to follow.

“Bye darling!” Brooks chuckled teasingly.

***

Entering the section of the building dedicated to the police technicians, the first thing meeting the eye were the empty coffee mugs, and loose papers lying around. The curtains wouldn’t need to be drawn but the lights were off nearly 24/7. 

“Trudeau!” A voice rang. 

Justin turned, trying to recognize the source.

“Deputy,” Justin answered, spotting the shorter man who was standing beside one of the technicians. “Meet-”

“Detective Macron!” The Deputy chief beamed.

“Deputy Modi,” Emmanuel smiled.

A smug and empty smile Justin noted.

“I’ve been looking forward to your arrival. It’s quite the unique situation I must say. Though I’m sure you’ll do some excellent work here at the station.” Modi said, giving the detective a bear hug.

“I hope so sir.” 

“I take it you know each other” Justin said, suddenly feeling like a third wheel. “Then why don’t you introduce him to the staff.”

“Nice observation,” Emmanuel said under his breath, with sharp sarcasm, as Modi turned to the staffers working on their computers, trying to appear as if they hadn’t been listening in the entire time.

“We have some exciting news everybody. Detective Macron from the outside will be joining us for the new investigation that lieutenant Trudeau is in charge of.”

Curious faces from the desks shun at the stranger as if they had never seen anything like it.

“This is Charles, Mette, Leo, Jacinda, Erna, Stefan and Andrea.” Modi said, pointing to the technicians. “I assume you’ll all get along well.”

Justin’s immediate instinct was to glare at his colleagues. He already felt annoyed, even if they’d just met the detective, he’d make sure they knew he wasn’t welcome.

“Take a round, and get familiar.” Modi smiled, then leaving through a door leading into his office.

Justin decided to keep close as the detective walked towards the first desk. The other technicians went back to work.

“It’s an honor to work with someone from the outside. Please take good care of the city while you’re here.” Charles Michel said, as he shook Emmanuel’s hand. 

“Of course sir,” He answered with a charming smile, before moving on to the next desk.

“Mette Frederiksen,” The dark haired woman said, introducing herself.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Emmanuel answered, giving her a kiss on each cheek. 

She rarely smiled but this time she did.

“Hurry or we’re gonna be late,” Justin complained, eager to get it over with.

Emmanuel flashed him a genuine chuckle. But not a kind one. Justin felt slightly uneasy, as if the detective had read his mind or seen right through him. Was he really that easy to read? Perhaps his dislike of the detective had been obvious from the start, indeed he did not try to hide that fact. 

Emmanuel seemed to have caught the attention of a group containing three technicians whom he had noticed staring intently when Modi had introduced him.

“So, you’re from the outside huh?” A skinny woman with a refined face asked. “Jacinda Ardern.”

“The rest of the world is what you refer to as ‘The outside’ I take it.” Emmanuel answered, fairly certain he’d found the cause of their curiosity. “Washington.”

“Never been there,” Leo said. “Perhaps I should visit sometime.”

“Like you’re ever gonna escape this place,” Jacinda snickered. “You’re stuck here like the rest of us.”

“A man can hope,” Leo shrugged.

“A man can go back to work,” A slightly chubby women with short bright hair said.

Leo rolled his eyes so far back, it almost seemed as if they’d get stuck. 

“Erna Solberg by the way,” She added, smiling kindly. “And of course, that’s Leo Varadkar.” She pointed at the man to her side. 

“I’m pleased to be working with you,” Emmanuel answered, performing the usual greetings.

Justin stood by quietly, as he became increasingly annoyed. Sooner or later it really would become the time frame pushing them forward, and not just his impatience.

“Justin,” Andrea smiled. “Congratulations on your new case.”

Emmanuel continued conversing with the other technicians, although he had clearly noticed the beautiful blond woman basically clinging onto Justin. 

“Thanks,” He smiled. 

Thankfully the detective hadn’t managed to snub all the attention.

***

When they arrived at the forensic pathologists office, Shinzo hadn’t done the autopsy. Justin stepped over and Emmanuel stayed in the back, his eyes glued to the body. To Justin’s disgust the detective looked almost drawn in.

“Shinzo,” He greeted the pathologist. “You told us to be here now, but you haven’t begun yet?”

“Something came up, the exterior examination took longer than expected. Also, there’s something you should see…”

Justin stepped closer, feeling the anxiety growing inside of him. Shinzo pulled the sheet down, exposing the body. Justin involuntarily shivered, pushing back the gasp he was about to let out. He knew her. Now that she had been cleaned up, it was clear. 

“Angel?...” He whispered, as if the body could respond. “How?”

“The ID checks out. She was either injected with a drug or injected it herself.” Shinzo said, pointing to the injection site on her neck.

“She didn’t take drugs.” Justin said, voice trembling slightly. “Someone did this, and it wasn’t her. Look at these wounds!”

“How would you know?” The detective asked. “Statistically speaking, only the fewest of addicts intentionally let others know they have an addiction. The wounds could have been from an animal, since it’s not uncommon for even pets to feast on the remains of human flesh,”

His question prompted both the pathologist and the lieutenant to turn to him with a raised eyebrow. Shinzo more out of impression of his directness, and Justin with obvious rage.

“While I do see the point in your argument, the external exam found signs of struggle which leads me to believe we are indeed dealing with a homicide. Nothing I can say for sure though. I don’t think we’ve met,” Shinzo said. “You must be the new one.”

“The new one?” Emmanuel chuckled, fidgeting with his hair suggestively out of habit. “I’m from Washington. Here on trial sir.”

“Stay out of this!” Justin hissed, as Shinzo and the detective shook hands. “I don’t fucking care who you think you are.”

“Justin how about you go get some air? The detective and I will take it from here. You’ll receive the information after I’ve completed the autopsy.”

Justin didn’t respond. He paced for a second then left, not far though. He sat just outside the glass door listening in, however not bothering to say his goodbyes when it was clear that he wouldn’t be rejoining them. Emmanuel calmly turned to Shinzo, shifting his gaze to the corpse on the table now and then. 

“Mind if I assist?” He asked with a confident smile.

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be appropriate.” Shinzo answered, preparing the tray of tools.

“I’m a former forensic pathologist actually,” Emmanuel said. “I’ve got additional experience. Plus, it would be an honor assisting someone like yourself. I can’t imagine the effort that goes into being the only pathologist in this city.”

Shinzo smiled, clearly pleased. He gestured at the side of the body for the detective to stand. Emmanuel happily obliged, putting on the surgical mask and gloves, plus the additional protective material. 

Shinzo started out with the Y-incision that was routine as every other part of the autopsy. Justin sat outside, head in his hands, avoiding the clear glass door, and the visions behind it. From collarbones to breastplate, down the abdomen, to the pelvis and pubicbone. Emmanuel observed as the pathologist moved the scalpel swiftly, through skin, fat, tissue and muscle, pulling it back with the scalpel to expose the ribcage. He eventually used the shears to clip each side of the ribcage, making it possible to open up the victim like a book. The organs were now exposed, and he skillfully removed them and let Emmanuel weigh them to save time as he began the next step. He took some additional blood and tissue samples making sure they would be labeled for toxicology. They examined the stomach, taking note of the content, the condition of intake and when the last meal had been consumed to help establish time of death. Next Shinzo took samples of the ocular fluid, and bile, plus a urine sample. Once they were finished examining the abdominal and chest area, they moved on to the head. Shinzo made a triangular incision across the scalp, then cut the skull with an electrical saw, as Emmanuel kept a safe distance. Once the brain had been successfully severed from the spinal cord and tentorium, they examined it, then discussed the findings of the autopsy briefly. 

“I’ll close up the body and do the paperwork. Can you please take the samples to the toxicologist?”

“Of course sir,” Emmanuel answered.

He left through the glass door, causing Justin a minor startle. He didn’t bother make small talk, and the lieutenant understood from the secured samples in his hands that his task was silently following the detective. It didn’t last long though as a question was searing in his mind and continued to do so as they went up the building, and into the toxicologist’s office. 

***

A man stood up from his desk, almost as if he had sensed them coming. 

“One second,” He requested, tending to some unfinished work, as Justin decided he could spend that second asking his question.

“What signs of struggle?” 

Out of context his question didn’t make much sense, but Emmanuel seemed to understand to Justin’s relief.

“Tissue under her nails, probably from the perpetrator. Shinzo is running the DNA so hopefully we’ll get the results in the course of 24-72 hours.” Emmanuel answered, putting down the samples on one of the counters.

“I see…” Justin answered.

The toxicologist turned to them, extending a hand to Emmanuel as he realized he hadn’t seen him before.

“Xavier Bettel,” He smiled, shaking Emmanuel’s hand firmly. “I take it you’re the detective from Washington. Word travels fast.”

Emmanuel chuckled slightly, a gesture that made Justin more uncomfortable than he already was. 

“Emmanuel Macron, it’s nice to meet you Xavier,” Emmanuel said, holding his gaze as he gave him a pleasant smile. 

“I’ll take care of these blood samples, thank you for bringing them to me,” Xavier said, moving the samples to where some of his other work was already stationed.

“Right, we’ll let you get to it,” Justin answered, gesturing for Emmanuel to follow him out. “If you’re ready we’re heading to the brothel.”

***

“You can wait inside, I need to take this,” Justin said, picking up his phone before Emmanuel had a chance to respond.

“Right,” he mumbled to himself as Justin started speaking to whoever had called him.

He scanned the exterior with narrowed eyes, noting how the brothel was more decent looking than he’d expected. Elegant even. Stairs leading to double doors, fitting into a marble frame. Classy indeed. He entered the building, instantly being met by the smell of cigars, perfume and liquor. He supposed he’d just wait at the entrance, or at least that was his plan, until…

“Can I help you?” 

He turned to see a beautiful woman walking down the stairs, dressed in pink satin lingerie and fishnet stockings. A thin brunette with hazel eyes, smile warm and enticing. 

“It’s about Angel… I don’t know her last name,” Emmanuel confessed, as the woman approached him.

He figured he’d make his agenda clear, since Justin hadn’t given him any other instructions. Obviously there was no reason not to answer the question.

“Angel isn’t back yet,” she smiled, stepping closer, and in Emmanuel’s opinion; too close. “Why don’t I take care of you instead?” 

Emmanuel chuckled. He wasn’t exactly surprised, however the situation certainly was unusual.

“This seems to be a misunderstanding-”

“I’m Cindy by the way,” She giggled, ignoring his words as she leaned in further, tracing her lips along his jaw.

Emmanuel knew the situation was dangerous, not sure of how to react. He didn’t want to be seen laying a hand on her, which made pushing her away nearly impossible. Perhaps he could talk her out of it. Persuade her to be less physical.

“I’m with the police department, so I’d suggest-” he said, trying to take a step backwards.

“Is it your first time here?” She asked, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“Don’t tease him too much Cindy,” A voice said, and Emmanuel quickly spotted the source.

Walking towards them was a curvy Latina woman with dark curls and brown eyes, wearing a blue sequin body stocking. Emmanuel would have said something but it seemed he couldn’t quite figure out what. 

“It’s extra if you want both of us,” She said, walking up behind him. “But I suppose that won’t be a problem with the discount.”

She gently rubbed her chest against his back, and Emmanuel instinctively leaned forwards, forgetting who was in front of him.

“The discount?” He asked in confusion, but didn’t get any further as his tie was slipped off and the door opened.

“You have got to be kidding me…” Justin sighed, observing the scene in front of him. “Get everyone into the main hall while I talk to the Baron. And… stop trying to take off his clothes, that’s not what we’re here for.”

Justin was quickly gone, presumably off to see this Baron person. Emmanuel was let go from where he was stuck between the two women. He supposed they knew Justin well since they followed his orders without question. Doors were opened and closed, voices sounded out, like murmurs in a classroom. He caught glimpses of their rooms, noting the beds wardrobes and colorful lights like something out of a stripclub. Feathers, fur, sequins and what not. They quickly gathered in the main hall and Emmanuel followed, curiosity painting his features as he looked them over. They were all wearing revealing clothes, mostly lingerie, which wasn’t exactly surprising. They patiently waited for Justin to return, chattering amongst themselves about what was going on. Emmanuel wasn’t particularly used to the situation. The tie between the department and the brothel was… inappropriately close to say the least.

“Alright, we’ve got everyone here?” Justin asked, counting them inside his head. “Let’s get the introductions over with first then. Shasta, Tsara, Cindy, Arya, Viola, Luci, Lynn, Lezza meet detective Macron.”

“We’re not all here actually,” a Black woman with a thick afro said. “Angel hasn’t come back.”

Emmanuel knew what was about to happen, and he thought it surprising that Justin hadn’t gotten to the point already. 

“Right,” Justin sighed.

He explained the situation, and to Emmanuel’s astonishment they didn’t seem too shaken up. Sure, a few of them were sobbing quietly but Emmanuel could only assume that they’d seen it coming, or at least suspected it since Angel hadn’t come back. 

“What did the Baron say?” A thin blond woman with voluminous curls asked. 

“He’s… understandably furious to have lost a valuable asset, however that’s all,” Justin answered, crossing his arms.

“Bastard only cares about the money,” a black woman with long straight hair said.

Justin unconsciously nodded, which told Emmanuel all he needed to know. They discussed the situation a bit further, and Justin answered the questions he could, until the conversation stopped abruptly when a small girl peaked her head around the corner.

“Avvie!” A pregnant escort yelled sternly, hurrying to pick her up. “I told you to stay put.”

Emmanuel was absolutely stunned, catching Justin’s gaze as the group dispersed and the escorts attended to what they had been doing before they’d found out about Angel. 

“There’s a kid at a place like this?” Emmanuel asked, his tone laced with disapproval. “Not to mention that there’s another one on the way.”

Justin wasn’t exactly sure how to explain. Emmanuel wasn’t accustomed to the city and their ways, although even Justin could tell that it wasn’t a great look.

“As far as I know Lynn isn’t providing services, so she’s taking care of Avvie and doing… well whatever it is that pregnant people do.” Justin said, knowing he’d have to explain a lot of things. “The Baron owns and runs this place. The police department provides some security and in return we get discounts on the services. You could call it a partnership I suppose.”

Emmanuel raised an eyebrow. He still had so many questions that needed to be answered, however in that moment there was only one thing he was certain of.

“This is very messed up…” 

Justin nodded. Perhaps it was. It was something Emmanuel would just have to get used to. 

“Where do we start?” Emmanuel asked. “With the suspects. We’ll need to know her clients.”

“I don’t-” Justin started, but got distracted. “Tsara.”

Emmanuel turned to see the thin blond woman from earlier. She was wearing bright red lingerie, that stood out almost as much as her eye catching curls.

“Let’s talk… somewhere more private.” She suggested, and led Emmanuel and Justin to her room.

***

“He keeps a list of all the customers,” She said applying the blood red lipstick.

“Where can we see it?” Justin asked, keeping an eye on the detective through the mirror.

“It’s in a safe,” She answered. “He has the keys in his chest pocket. He’s the only one who has ever seen the list, and trust me he’s not about to give it up to the police.”

“Would you be able to get it?” The detective asked.

“Even if I offered my body for it it wouldn’t work. Let’s just say that he plays for the other team.”

“You mean he’s…” Justin started.

“He likes men. Unfortunately for him there aren’t many in this city that fits his standards.” She said, running an expensive looking - but worn out - silver brush through her curls. “Even so, he’d never willingly let anyone see it.”

“I might be able to get close enough. He doesn’t know I’m part of the police” Emmanuel offered, not waiting for an answer as he made his way out of the dressing room, heading towards the bar.

Justin jumped from his spot on the pink fur couch, trying to catch Emmanuel before he made a mess.

“Wait!” Tsara exclaimed. “He might have a shot.”

Justin scoffed, but slowed down as he got to the corner so that he wouldn’t be caught observing them. His face twisted into a frown once his eyes fell upon the foul human, slumped back lazily in his chair, as he monitored the business. The music was in many ways too suitable for the situation, although in a brothel it was what to expect. Tsara inched closer, sliding her stilettos off carefully.

“What’re you-” 

Tsara quickly shushed him before he got too loud, gesturing to Emmanuel who was placing his hands on the armrests of the chair. Justin couldn’t help but mouth the word ‘no’ over and over, even as Emmanuel ignored his pleadings with a smug wink, before swinging his leg over the Baron’s thighs and placing himself in his lap. Justin planted his palm right onto his forehead, expecting things to go terribly wrong. However, when he uncovered his eyes the sight in front of him stunned him completely. 

“You have got to be kidding me…” He mumbled.

Emmanuel moved his body, thrusting forward his chest as the Baron placed two adoring hands on his hips, appreciating the width. Tsara took advantage of the distraction, and snuck towards them, her bare feet inaudible on the coarse carpet. Spotting her, Emmanuel started brushing his finger over the Baron’s chest, discreetly feeling the pockets for the key. He continued searching, even as nausea washed over him in response to the greedy hands sliding across his lower back and further. He felt a bulge in the left chest pocket, swiftly elevating it, and tossing it behind the Baron’s back, straight into Tsara’s grip, without leaving a hint of suspicion. Justin waved his hand, as she sprinted lightly across the floor right back to the corner. 

“We have until the end of this song,” She whispered. “We need to hurry…”

About to follow her into the backroom, Justin took one last glance at Emmanuel, and the scum treating him like a shallow piece of meat. He felt an unpleasant warmth flaring in his chest, not sure what it meant, yet still searing as he turned away.

“It’s open,” Tsara cheered, barely above a whisper. “The list should be in here somewhere… Take a picture.”

“Why?” Justin asked, confused.

“So we know how everything was placed before we start looking through it!” She answered, rushing him to take the photo.

“Done. Start digging.” Justin said, signaling for her to go through the contents of the safe. 

Her hand emerged from the bundle of random things, a stack of cash in her grasp, considering for a moment, before placing it on the counter next to the safe. Next, she dug up a bag of methamphetamine, dumping it beside the cash. Justin grew rapidly impatient until she uncovered a black leather folder containing documents of all kinds. As she began looking through them, Justin decided to clean up the other items. 

“Here,” She said, handing him two pieces of paper. “Angel’s section of the client list.”

He quickly snapped a photo of each paper, checking to make sure there was nothing on the other sides of the documents, then handing them back. 

“Alright,” Tsara said, putting the folder back in the safe, and locking it. “Let’s go.” 

When she gained eye contact with Emmanuel, she made a motion to throw the key but decided it was too risky, instead tiptoeing towards him, and handing him the key. She quietly backed away, and he retrieved the key to the chest pocket. As the song ended, and Emmanuel got up from the Baron’s lap, he was stopped by a hand on his inner thigh keeping him in place. 

“Come back any time lamb…” The Baron growled hungrily.

Emmanuel merely pulled away with a disgusted frown, leaving without a word.

  
  


“I thought you knew the place, the city, the people, yet I’m the one putting my ass on the line… literally, because it turns out you don’t know shit about anything!” Emmanuel hissed, leading the way back to the car.

“She wouldn’t have told me about the list, if it wasn’t because her friend was killed. The escorts haven’t been targeted before. It’s a unique situation.”

“Spare me the excuses lieutenant,” Emmanuel answered. 

Justin sighed, feeling oddly inferior. He got into the driver’s seat, and Emmanuel did the same in the passenger’s seat. 

“The mayor is on the list,” Justin mentioned, noting that the detective seemed pleased with that information.

“We’ll have to get back to the station in order to rule out and delegate, but since we’ve already got a suspect of such high profile I say we go straight to his office.” Emmanuel said, checking his notes.

Justin nodded, even as his mind continued wandering back to the detective in the Baron’s lap.

“Are you okay?...” Justin asked hesitantly.

Emmanuel didn’t look at him, still focused on the notes with a furrowed brow, scribbling something Justin couldn’t quite read.

“Who cares, start driving.” He answered, uninterested.

Justin paused for a second, but ended up obeying. 

***

Pushing open the heavy wooden panel door, Justin stepped inside with Emmanuel right behind him. It was certainly not going to be a pleasant encounter to say the least. He didn’t consider warning Emmanuel, though he wasn’t exactly sure how to do it either. 

“Lieutenant! What can I do for you?” A smug looking man, with a supremely long tie said, gesturing with his arms to greet them. “And I see you brought a boy toy with you.”

Emmanuel raised his eyebrow in disgust at the sleazy-looking man, who continued stepping forward with his red tie basically dragging across the floor.

“Careful Donnie.” Justin interfered. “He’s from Washington. I’m pretty sure they’ll want him back in one piece.” 

“Didn’t know they let faggots join the force on the outside.” Trump answered, focusing his condescending glare at the detective. “Word travels fast. But uh… if the Baron gets bored of you, my door will be open.”

Emmanuel’s face remained neutral, as though he had decidedly not heard any of what the mayor had said. Justin didn’t know whether or not to intervene, but let it go out of personal disdain for the detective. 

“So,” Trump continued. “Gentlemen. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Justin opened his mouth to speak but Trump continued as if his question didn’t require an answer. 

“Have a drink!” 

A servant quickly took the cue, bringing a tray with several glasses, and bottles of expensive looking alcohol forth. He placed it on the desk, pouring a clear liquid into two glasses, then hurried away. Justin already dreaded the sight, hoping his memory of the ritual was betraying him. Trump stretched out his arms in a sadistic way, gesturing at the alcohol in front of them. 

“Very well,” Emmanuel answered, nonchalantly downing the glass. 

Justin attempted to do the same while the mayors eyes were on the detective. He stubbornly pushed back the pants, and coughs forming in his chest. He didn’t move in order to avoid attention, stunned at the detective’s reaction to the alcohol, when he himself was blinking back water from his sight and breathing fiery breaths. 

“Now,” Emmanuel continued. “Let’s get to the point.”

Trump gave him a dishonest smile, gesturing for all of them to take a seat.

“You’re on the brothel’s client list.” Justin started, hoping Emmanuel would take over in presenting the material so he could get his head back in place.

“That means you’re a potential suspect in a recently launched homicide investigation.” The detective followed up.

“Every man in this city is on that list.” The mayor shrugged, as his servant cleared the tray from the desk. “You really think I’d want to shorten the supply of beautiful women?”

“We both know you’re short-tempered.” Justin answered, leaning forward.

“You’re wasting your time lieutenant,” Trump answered. “I happen to be busy at the moment, so I’d appreciate it if we could wrap this up.” 

They were soon back on the street, left to continue down the list of clients.

“You knew he was going to serve us that alcohol?” Justin asked, still mildly shaken up. “I take it you already know it wasn’t a normal spirit.”

“The average percentage of alcohol in spirit is 37,5.” Emmanuel answered in his usual monotone voice. “But we both know that was at least 90 percent.”

“Shit’s expensive I’d imagine.”

“Probably. I was expecting it once I’d seen he wouldn’t be joining us.” Emmanuel said. “It’s not uncommon though. Especially among drug lords.”

“I’m not even gonna ask…” Justin frowned.

“Good.” Emmanuel answered.

As they continued walking through the narrow streets, Justin could still feel the searing sensation of alcohol in his stomach, not to mention the disorientation brought thereby. He stepped carefully toward the car, but lost his footing and tumbled to the side.

“Careful,” Emmanuel said. “I’m driving.”

***

Emmanuel stepped into the mortuary with a bottle in his hand. He didn’t feel the necessity in saying anything, since there was no point. He simply walked over with the bottle knowing that it was the only bandaid for that kind of internal wound. He sat down next to the lieutenant. And then they were three.

“Want some?” Emmanuel asked raising the bottle and smiled a devilish smile. 

“If it’s the kind we got from Donnie I swear to god.” Justin answered.

“It’s funny you think I have that kind of money.” Emmanuel scoffed, and handed him the bottle.

“You were close.” Emmanuel said, following the bottle with his eyes, his statement clearly directed at the dead body, and the relationship Justin had with it.

“Just because we were intimate doesn’t mean we were close like that.” Justin answered. 

He fidgeted a bit with her red hair, and quietly drank from the bottle. He caressed her cold cheek carefully, more for his own sake than anything else, and held her hand just for a few seconds until he was more or less satisfied with his ability to comfort her, despite her lack of living presence.

“Noted.” Emmanuel mumbled.

Justin remembered how they’d been drinking earlier too, and the detective seemed to have been unaffected. Of course there were other things more pressing. They sat there for a while without saying anything, until they both left the corpse. And went back to the station. 

***

_ 1996 _

_ He breathed in the brisk air, excitement flowing through him, as the SWAT team was getting ready to go in. He stood between the many police cars, waiting for the chief to give the orders. Red and blue was flickering in the corners of his eyes, and he took another shaky breath. _

_ “You did good son,” The chief said. “You were right not to give up on this case.” _

_ Sanchez gave him a grateful nod, feeling the pride reaching from every part of his being. He’d bet everything on a single lead and it had paid off.  _

_ “You’ll take my place one day,” The chief said. “Now, give the orders.” _

_ “All units converge.” _

***

When they arrived back at the station, the alcohol had already worn off, leaving Justin in his usual realistic mindset. To his displeasure, Emmanuel had already been given a desk, not that far from his own. The detective settled in, appearing as arrogant as ever, or perhaps it was merely Justin’s view of him. A thought appeared in his mind, but it was promptly dispersed as Emmanuel called him over. 

“The list,” He ordered, flipping through his notes.

Justin was momentarily dumbfounded, wondering what list Emmanuel was referring to, until he was reminded. 

“Will the client list matter before we know whether this was a homicide or not?” He asked, mostly reluctant to hand Emmanuel his phone where the list was on, or exchange numbers if he was to send the list by text.

“I thought you were eager to rule this a homicide?” Emmanuel said, surprised at Justin’s supposed u-turn. “Besides, with the substance found under her fingernails I’d argue having my own copy of the list wouldn’t hurt. This is essentially my case after all.”

This was something Justin wasn’t prepared for. In his opinion, the detective had crashed his case, leeching onto it like a pest. Now he was being told that he was that pest.

“You think that because you’re a former forensic pathologist-”

“I’m not,” Emmanuel cut him off.

Justin raised an eyebrow, confused to say the least.

“But you told Shinzo…” He mumbled, trying to string the information together, hoping that somehow it would make sense.

“I said I was,” Emmanuel agreed. “Because I have the skills, and I could have been a forensic pathologist had I pleased.”

Justin had to catch his jaw from falling to his feet in utter astonishment. Did the detective really believe that he could do whatever he wanted as long as he felt like it? The sheer narcissism and misplaced confidence in himself that the detective possessed, was enough to make Justin go blank in awe. Not only had Emmanuel lied so impulsively and without considering the consequences it would have on not only himself but on the investigation as a whole, he seemed to not understand the magnitude of his actions at all. How did the department in Washington tolerate his behavior?

“I’m gonna…” Justin said, completely dazed with what he had just learned. “I should talk to the chief.”

Emmanuel didn’t look surprised in the least, leading Justin to believe that the detective really could not comprehend that what he had done was wrong. Justin had to inform the chief.

***

Justin entered the chief’s office, pacing a bit at first. 

“Sit down lieutenant,” The chief ordered, continuing as Justin did as he was told. “What is this about?”

“I want Perry back,” He said, ripping off the bandaid. 

“You were the one who wanted him off your case,” Merkel said, undoubtedly annoyed by the lieutenant’s sudden change in attitude. “Is detective Macron not to your liking?”   
Justin sighed, avoiding her eyes for a few seconds before answering.

“There’s something about him,” He said, guessing he’d have to explain further, as the chief didn’t seem to follow. “Everything about him… it’s like I’ve seen it before, when I interrogate the kinds of people we’ve got locked up underground. He’s impulsive, a liar, a narcissist-”

“Your point being?” Merkel asked, knowing she’d have to tell him. “Look, you’re observant I’ll give you that.”

Justin waited patiently for her to go on, and she sighed, taking off her glasses before continuing.

“He’s been diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder.”

“He’s a psychopath?!” Justin snapped, and Merkel Immediately flashed him a glare, warning him that he’d be in trouble if he didn’t calm down. “Is that why he’s here? Because he fucked up on the outside, and they decided to dispose of him? They didn’t care that we’d have to clean up the mess.”   
“Don’t be ridiculous,” The chief scoffed. “Like I said, he’ll only be here temporarily. Even on the outside he’s got quite the record, which is why he’ll be promoted to lieutenant back in Washington. I’m not reassigning Perry to the case.”

“But-” Justin protested.

“I believe detective Macron will be a great asset, and you will treat him with respect regardless of what you think of him.” Merkel said, expecting the lieutenant to object, however the door swung open, and Emmanuel was standing in the frame.

“Shinzo needs you in the mortuary,” He said. “It’s urgent.”

Justin wondered how none of them had seen him through the glass, but decided to let it go. He got up and the chief cleared her throat, giving him a knowing look. He nodded reluctantly, then followed the detective towards the mortuary. 

***

“He removed her fingernails.” Shinzo pointed out, holding up the victims bruised hands, and circling the craters on the tips of her fingers where her nails were supposed to be, with his gloved hand.

“But they were there following the post mortem. I know. I held her hand… how is this possible? He couldn’t have had access to her body” Justin asked, frustrated at the setback. “It doesn’t make any sense. How could he have known we got his DNA?”

“That’s not all,” Shinzo sighed, pulling the sheet back over the body. “The samples are gone, and the material has been deleted from the system.”

Emmanuel didn’t react much, other than lifting an eyebrow. After processing the information, Justin had a grim expression painted across his face. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but Emmanuel caught his attention with a scoff.

“What?” Justin asked bitterly.

“You’re actually surprised he managed to interfere with the investigation? Even if the system wasn’t so easy to hack, he could’ve simply stolen a keycard from one of your many careless colleagues. You’re used to dealing with incompetent crackheads and sloppy criminals, and now you’re screwed because none of you know how to deal with criminals such as those from the outside.”

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” Justin spat, not taking his eyes off the detective. “You sick fucking bastard.”

“Well it is quite amusing seeing you facing an actual challenge.” Emmanuel answered, calmer than Justin saw fit.

“You wanted something like this to happen.” Justin concluded. “You did this.”

Emmanuel didn’t look in the least bit surprised, unsettling Justin further. He kept that neutral expression on his face, until suddenly the lieutenant stormed out. Despite his disinterest Emmanuel followed him out, remembering to keep his distance. They eventually reached the main department where several of the technicians and detectives were gathered. Including Morgan.

“It’s funny you think I’d have anything to do with this when both our reputations are on the line. We both know that I have more to lose. This promotion is worth the unimaginable to you, on the outside.” Emmanuel said, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. 

“You think you have any right to a title like ours? What a joke. You just don’t get that you’re scum destined to become the very thing you pretend to be above. It doesn’t matter that you have no tainted record, because you’re already tainted by being. Your kind won’t be anything but rapists, killers and thieves. You’re useless. Absolutely useless.”

“Justin…” Morgan said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. “That’s enough.”

Justin merely pulled away.

“Do society a favor and put a bullet in your head before I do.” He said, gritting his teeth.

“Lieutenant Trudeau.”

Justin recognized the chief’s voice but stubbornly continued staring down the detective, who merely stood there with crossed arms and a lacking expression. Despite the tension, Justin eventually broke away with a scoff.

He followed the chief into the office, hoping that the situation hadn’t looked as grim to everyone else in the room, as he was now aware that it probably had. 

***

The chief handed him a plain book with no picture on the cover, suggesting that it was purely for educational purposes. 

“What do you want me to do with this? I know what a psychopath is.” Justin scoffed, not bothering to look at the contents.

“I don’t think you do lieutenant.” The chief answered, her arms crossed. “Read it, and consider the things you said out there.”

“Don’t assume I’ll change my mind, or regret my words.”

He left the office with the book tugged away at his side, catching a slight smirk on the detective’s face, mocking him. He felt a sneaking urge to repeat everything he’d gotten reprimanded for saying just moments before, and suddenly understood the purpose of the book. He returned the smirk nonchalantly.

“I see she gave you the book,” Emmanuel concluded, taking a seat on the lieutenants desk right in front of the chair, making it impossible to ignore him. “Perhaps you can tell me about your revelations when you read it.”

“I’d rather not,” Justin answered, with a condescending tone, as he attempted to avoid looking at the distraction in front of him.

“Of course,” The detective pouted sweetly. “Never discuss the project with the labrat.”

“What’s your problem?”

“I could ask you the exact same question.” Emmanuel answered coldly, placing his shoes on the armrests of Justin’s chair. “But I won’t, because I already know the answer.”

Justin remained quiet, narrowing his eyes. The detective pushed the chair forward with his feet, and leaned in. 

“Read the book if you want to know mine,” He whispered, barely grazing Justin’s ear with his lips, before taking off.

The following days Justin would read at every spare moment of his shifts, as they worked on their interrogations. Some lines would repeat in his mind, and others would reflect themselves in Emmanuel’s behavior. 


	2. Tolerance

Both Emmanuel and Justin had gotten in early, perhaps in a mutual understanding that the sooner they solved the case, the sooner their partnership would come to a conclusion. Justin still felt his lack of sleep settling in his eyelids that threatened to close entirely, however his motivation to get the task over with outweighed the temptation of going back to sleep. They went into the conference room where outside voices from colleagues who’d showed up equally early, were sealed off, not bothering to turn on the lights. the dark, quiet room seemed fitting enough in itself. Justin pulled out his phone, and Emmanuel a laptop. They were looking over the client list as they had done multiple times since they’d managed to get it. They were picking out the next client for interrogation, and Justin seemed focused on one in particular. 

“How didn’t I notice this before,” He mumbled, and Emmanuel narrowed his eyes, waiting for him to elaborate. “Terrence Averette. Possessive and desperate, as far as I know.”

Emmanuel had pulled up his criminal profile before Justin had finished his sentence. 

“He’s already locked up,” Justin sighed, after taking a quick glance at the screen.

“Yes, but look at the date,” Emmanuel pointed out. “He was arrested after the murder, due to charges of theft and assault.”

Justin took another look at the dates, then nodded slightly. 

“Let’s go question him,” Justin said, getting up. “I’ll have Andrea print out the files. Maybe this is a good time to show you where we keep our prisoners.”

***

It was a strange place indeed. Nothing like the prisons on the outside. It barely even seemed like a prison, but more like a medieval compound. Emmanuel wondered what that said about the inmates who were confined in such an unconventional place of holding. The cells appeared sturdy considering the condition, and he dared run his fingertips along the bars until enough rust and filth gathered against his skin. He glared at the grime, rubbing it between his fingers with a look of disgust. It was clear that nothing could live long under these circumstances. Justin didn’t care to defend the pitiable sight in front of them, perhaps he had no compassion left to give. Emmanuel didn’t have time to consider it further, when bloody spit landed in front of his feet. He stopped in front of the cell, peering through the bars at the inmate who’d spit at him. Emmanuel momentarily locked eyes with him, noticing his features and sensing the contagion just by being near him. 

“Fucking cop swine,” He spat again, and this time Emmanuel wasn’t so forgiving.

He kicked the bars with enough force to startle the inmate, who curled up in the corner. 

Justin looked slightly amused, but discarded of that amusement relatively quick as he gestured for them to continue down the row of cells. As they walked, Emmanuel felt the eyes on him, searching for something, laced with disdain, and greed. They kept going, and heads were raised in curiosity, it rose some thoughts in his mind, but he decided to push them away as they got to the end of the row. Smoke coiled around the bars, and filled the air. Behind the cloud was a man sitting back, relaxed with a cigarette comfortably between his fingers. He tapped it against the wall, putting it out as he realized he had company. From the stains on the wall it was easy to tell that he’d been smoking for a while.

“Who gave you those?” Justin asked, crossing his arms.

“You think I’m gonna rat out my supplier?” He chuckled. “That’s one heck of an assumption.”

Justin scowled at him, opening the cell door and pulling him up by the collar.

“Then let’s have a little chat.”

The interrogation room was cramped, poorly lit and the floor wasn’t far from the ceiling. Emmanuel pulled a chair to the side, deciding to spectate. Justin however seemed eager to get started, taking the lead.

“Terrence Averette. Arrested on grounds of theft and, oh that’s new, assault. Just two days ago.” Justin read from the report. 

Terrence appeared disinterested, and even bored, prompting Justin to slam the report down hard on the table.

“What other stupid things have you done recently?” He asked, with a pleasant smile that surprised even Emmanuel. “Killed a whore maybe?”

Terrence scoffed slightly, leaning forward.

“Should’ve guessed it was about Angel.”

Emmanuel sensed some strain coming from Justin when her name was mentioned.

“Given the time of your arrest, you were out on the streets at the time of the homicide,” Justin said. “With a record like yours it wouldn’t be surprising.”

“I didn’t kill her,” Terrence mumbled. “She was good to me. I know that it was probably only about the money, but… it was nice you know? I’d never hurt a woman. And let’s be honest, only an idiot would kill a cop’s girlfriend.”

Justin rolled his eyes with a scoff, and Emmanuel noticed how Terrence had gotten bolder, indicating that the scale was about to tip.

“What? You thought people didn’t know?” Terrence smirked. “Or were you hoping they wouldn’t? Esteemed Lieutenant Trudeau getting sexual favors from a whore. But then again, if you didn’t want people saying that about you, you wouldn’t be screwing Morgan either-”

“Shut your mouth!” Justin growled. “You filthy scum, I’ll make sure you rot in this godforsaken place.”

Emmanuel stood up nonchalantly, as if planned, putting a hand on Justin’s shoulder, signaling for him to let Emmanuel take over. Justin reluctantly gave in, taking a seat on the sideline. Emmanuel reached across the table, extending his hand to Terrence, who took it hesitantly. After the handshake Emmanuel didn’t wipe off his hand, perhaps as a signal to Terrence, who appeared grateful to be shown the least bit of respect. 

“You do drugs?” Emmanuel asked, noting how Terrence looked slightly taken aback by his straightforwardness. 

“No…” Terrence answered. 

His voice was low but persistent enough to confirm that the answer was genuine, but only just so.

“These files say that you were arrested for theft and assault. The victim of this assault? Andrew Brown.” Emmanuel smirked, a gesture that always had Justin irked. “I read up on Mr. Brown and as it turns out, he has a criminal record as well. He has five accounts of dealing and distributing cocaine.”

Justin caught a scoff from escaping his lips just in time. It annoyed him immeasurably that Emmanuel had ‘read up’ on a guy that Justin didn’t even know existed. And even more so that Emmanuel had failed to share that information with him. When had he even had the time to do that research? In the car?

“You’ve been treated for substance abuse three years ago,” Emmanuel stated. “Am I correct?”

“Been sober ever since,” Terrence nodded.

“Right,” Emmanuel said. “So what made you break that sobriety on a whim? What could you have possibly done that made you relapse just hours after Angel’s homicide?”

It quickly became apparent that Emmanuel had a pretty good case, and perhaps one that could amount to a ticket to death row, under the non existent - and faulty at best - due process of the city’s court system.

“I didn’t do anything!” Terrence tried, on an obvious trip downhill from rationality.

Justin couldn’t blame him. Terrence was the clear scapegoat of a cruel society, and of the detective had he wished to blame him and receive his promotion with ease. Emmanuel appeared skeptical though. He, like Justin, could tell despite the lack of evidence, that Terrence was incapable of performing the act of which he was being accused.

“You stole drugs, and if you don’t tell me the truth I will pin you down for murder as well,” Emmanuel said, looking neutral as ever.

In the sentence lay the obvious. That truth and his guilt was not synonymous. The detective was sending a signal that he was willing to listen, but willing to make good of his threat as well.

“She killed herself…” Terrence whimpered in defeat.

“Angel would never-” Justin burst out, but Emmanuel merely waved his hand dismissively, gesturing for him to be quiet.

“I showed up unannounced,” Terrence said quietly. “I was on my way to the whorehouse to see her… she always said not to show up without an appointment but I didn’t care. I found her in the street, she was…”

His expression went blank, with only a slight hint of fear, as if he was remembering, but unable to voice the vision he was seeing. Justin was on the edge of his seat. Questioning whether or not Terrence was a credible witness was no longer an option. It seemed he was the only one able to offer clarification, which Justin desperately needed.

“She was eating her own flesh,” Terrence whimpered, trembling violently. “There was blood everywhere, I couldn’t-”

He choked on the words, clearly unable to describe what he had seen.

“I just wanted to forget.”

Emmanuel wrote down the vague bits of the account that Terrence was able to express, knowing that it would be difficult to make a full report, but determined to do so either way.

***

_ 1996 _

_ “Come take a look at this…” _

_ Sanchez shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus on the individual scenes, though the entire place was melting together into one horrific mass. He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the fact that the facility was everything he’d feared it to be.  _

_ “What’ve you got?” He asked, pulling himself together. _

_ “Looks like an operating room,” The forensic said. “These people performed procedures in here that’s for sure.” _

_ Sanchez took some time to steady the rhythm of his heart, scanning the cramped OR with his eyes. Something told him that horrors had taken place in that room. _

_ “The victims?” He asked. _

_ “Rushed off to a nearby hospital as far as I know.” _

_ He nodded absently, parting ways with the forensic, and exploring further. There were cell-like bedrooms, and toys on the floor. Clearly there were children as he’d suspected. All spaces had been filled with police and forensics, and Sanchez wasn’t sure where the chief had gone. He fidgeted slightly with the white gloves on his hands, unsure of what to do, when he heard rustling. He instinctively turned toward the noise, listening closely. He was about to dismiss it, but the rustling continued. He knelt at one of the bunk beds, peeking under it to find teal eyes staring back at him. A small boy with voluminous curls and a blank expression, was hiding under the bed. He considered calling out for someone to deal with the situation, but knew that causing a scene would only serve to frighten the boy. He raised a hand carefully, waving slowly, and smiling as the boy mirrored his movements.  _

_ “What’s your name?” He asked, but got no answer.  _

_ He reached out, but the boy moved back further, and Sanchez was unsure of what to do next. He took off the white gloves, and repeated the attempt, this time with more luck. The boy accepted his hand, and Sanchez pulled him out from under the bed, kneeling at his side. He brushed off some dirt from his clothes, gently as Sanchez noticed that he wasn’t fond of being touched. _

_ “What’s this?” The chief asked, stepping towards the bed. _

_ “Easy,” Sanchez warned, putting up his hand, as the boy looked ready to crawl back under the bed.  _

_ The chief nodded slightly, taking a step back. _

_ “I’ll get someone,” He mouthed, disappearing again. _

_ Sanchez took another look at the boy, this time more aware of some of the details he’d missed before. The clothes were worn out, his feet were bare, and he looked malnourished. _

_ “How old are you?” He asked, not expecting to get an answer to this question either. _

_ However the boy raised both his hands, showing ten fingers, then two. _

_ “Twelve?” Sanchez asked, and the boy nodded. _

_ He reluctantly let a woman take the boy, wanting to know more, but determined on letting him go. The chief approached him again, as they observed the boy being escorted to an ambulance outside. _

_ “What happened to these people?” Sanchez asked. “They’re… broken.” _

_ “We found some files. Take a look.” The chief answered, handing him a folder. “They were conducting an unauthorized experiment, trying to cure antisocial personality disorder. They probably thought they were doing the world a favor. Our prisons and mental health facilities are growing packed beyond capacity, psychopaths are responsible for more than 50 percent of all serious crimes. There’re good reasons to try and solve these problems, starting with the people causing them. But…” _

_ “But it’s not fair. They’re children, look what’s happened! Why treat humans like this?” He answered, getting more upset than he intended. _

_ “I get their motives. That doesn’t mean it’s justified,” The chief sighed. “Looks like most of the subjects signed up to enter the program, either for money or drugs. The children weren’t able to give consent, but their guardians must’ve received a generous sum. All of this under the radar.”  _

_ Sanchez looked through the folder, letting his eyes wander across the sections of information until something caught his attention. _

_ “The frontal lobes play a crucial role in the regulation of behavior, and it seems reasonable to hypothesize that faulty wiring would have something to do with antisocial personality disorder.” _

_ He turned the page, immediately wincing at what he saw next. _

_ “Is that…” The chief asked. _

_ “A lobotomy…” Sanchez answered. “Not only is that ineffective, it’s also irreversible. At least she seems to have been the first and last subject to have been exposed to the procedure. The file says it was ‘a failure despite modifications made to the original practice’ so it was suspended, and they moved on to ‘trepanation’...” _

_ At that point he wasn’t exactly eager to turn the page, but decided that stalling wouldn’t do him any favors either. He winced, closing the folder knowing he’d seen all he’d needed to see.  _

***

“Well,” Emmanuel said, pleased with himself. “How about we celebrate this new information?”

Justin raised an eyebrow, hanging his coat on a chair. It almost amazed him how the detective could offer such a nonchalant attitude to the circumstances under which he was speaking.

“You really have no sense of situation,” He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Probably not,” Emmanuel shrugged. 

Justin wasn’t surprised that the detective considered the information an attainment. He relied not upon what the information entailed, but that he had obtained it. It seemed not to matter that what the information did entail caused Justin distress, not to mention confusion. Perhaps he would’ve sounded off on this distress, but his eyes were quickly met with the sight of Emmanuel taking a long swig of a newly opened bottle of vodka. He handed it to Justin, probably knowing that the mental state he was in caused him - like it had in the morgue when he’d paid the last tribute to the prostitute - not to be able to decline. He drank from the bottle, settling in at his desk, and Emmanuel took a seat in front of him. After a few minutes of mutual silence and considerably more alcohol, Justin wondered how Emmanuel seemed mostly unaffected by the vodka. He himself felt the lightheadedness and warmth gathering in his cheeks already, but Emmanuel appeared as if immune.

“You have a pretty high alcohol tolerance.” Justin pointed out. “You don’t seem to be affected at all.”

Emmanuel seemed less than willing to engage in a conversation surrounding his drinking habits. 

“Do you drink on any occasion?” Justin asked, intent on picking the topic that annoyed Emmanuel the most. “You seem to drink a lot.”

Emmanuel decided to humor him, maybe sensing that Justin needed a distraction.

“Alcohol intensifies whatever you’re feeling while consuming it. It works wonders for someone who doesn’t feel much of anything. Plus, it’s less risky than drugs, not to mention cheaper. A bottle of vodka goes a long way, until it doesn’t. And no one likes a drunk. It’s easy to get caught up in the comfort of alcohol when you don’t have anything else.”

“What’s it like being a psychopath?” Justin asked, sensing that the previous question hadn’t gotten his desired response.

“I make myself useful to society, and blend in to cause less trouble. I keep my head down, because no one cares what a disposable has to say. You don’t realize that i can fuck up society in ways you could barely imagine. But I don’t. At least I know when I’m not welcome. Unlike you, I’m not afforded the benefit of the doubt. We’re all better off if it stays that way. Or if I put a bullet in my head.”

Just as he had expected, those words would come back to bite him… more than once.

“I only said that because I thought-”

“But there was a reason you thought so wasn’t there? I don’t blame you.”

Justin wasn’t exactly sure on how to respond so he just sat back with an empty feeling looming over his head. Until he reminded himself of the reality.

“You know, the only thing that really bothers me is that you think of yourself as a victim. You take pride in not screwing other people over, as if it’s truly noble of you. And even so you expect me to believe anything you say, even though your only goal is to make me swallow my words. You’re such a manipulative piece of shit. I have no intention of feeling sorry for you.”

Emmanuel smirked slightly, looking mildly impressed. 

“Perhaps, but all I’ve said so far is the truth.” He answered. “Do what you want with it.”

Justin wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, but the feeling of disgust at Emmanuel’s confidence in himself truly ate away at his mood.

“I’ll continue to call you out on your bullshit,” He sneered, getting up rather clumsily, as he decided that he’d had enough of both alcohol and company for the rest of the evening. “I’ll see you tomorrow or whatever.”

Emmanuel watched him leave, undeniably amused.

***

Emmanuel ran his fingertip across the exterior of the aquarium, observing the colorful fish as it followed his movement. Just as he had observed the fish, Justin was observing him, an eyebrow raised at Emmanuel’s behavior. He appeared as if he wanted to say something, but Emmanuel had a question of his own.

“What makes this particular suspect stand out?”

Justin contemplated for a while, as Emmanuel continued teasing the fish inside the aquarium. Whenever one would approach the glass, Emmanuel would tap his nail against it, causing the fish to skitter away, and he would wait for another one to come along.

“Xi Jinping is the owner of this large drug manufacturing company, with resources to create whatever drug Angel was injected with.” Justin explained, crossing his arms. “Plus, he’s on the client list.”

Emmanuel nodded, seemingly preoccupied with what Justin considered to be extremely annoying. 

“Chairman Xi will see you now,” a secretary said, gesturing for Emmanuel and Justin to follow her into the office. 

She was wearing a clean cut A-line dress, her hair in a tight braid which stayed aligned with her spine, even as she turned her head. From the doors leading to the office, the Mayor and the chairman were shaking hands, and when Trump turned to leave, he flashed them a wink as they passed each other in the hall. Emmanuel frowned, remembering their last encounter, which hadn’t exactly been pleasant. When they were inside, the secretary gave the chairman a brief nod, then leaving and closing the door behind her.

“I take it this is about Angel?” Xi asked, taking a seat at his desk, gesturing for them to do so as well.

“Correct,” Justin answered, wondering if Trump had been the one to deliver the news, or if Xi had known in advance. “You were one of her clients.”

Xi frowned, perhaps knowing where the conversation was headed. Justin took out his phone, looking at him for permission to record the conversation, and Xi gave him an affirmative nod.

“Look,” he started, and Justin leaned back in the chair as he listened. “I didn’t know Angel that well. I was Luci’s client before I… switched over, so to speak. All I can tell you is that whoever killed Angel now has a lot of powerful enemies.”

“You have the resources, and countless henchmen to do the dirty work though,” Emmanuel pointed out, earning an exaggerated sigh from the chairman. 

“And my motivation?” Xi asked, folding his hands.

“You tell me,” Emmanuel suggested, giving him a calculated glance.

“Or what?” Xi scoffed, returning Emmanuel’s gaze with a condescending one of his own. “You’re going to give me a lap dance as well?”

Justin promptly cleared his throat, as to not laugh. He fought the urge to look over at Emmanuel to see his expression, though it would undoubtedly be displeased. He stopped the recording, knowing that they wouldn’t make any further progress, and that the chairman probably wasn’t the suspect they were looking for.

“You can see yourselves out,” Xi smiled pleasantly, and Justin nodded putting his phone back in his pocket.

***

Emmanuel looked at the clock showing 22.49, figuring he’d set up a relations board of the suspects and the victim, with or without Justin who appeared distracted. He was talking to Morgan, and Xavier, as people started filing out, probably on their way home, and Emmanuel supposed he’d be working alone. Of course that didn’t bother him in the least. 

“Why don’t you join us?” Morgan asked, walking over, much to Emmanuel’s dismay. “We’re going out. Thought you might like to join.”

Emmanuel looked at Justin still talking to Xavier, knowing that it would probably add strain to the fun if he decided to go along with them. Though, ruining Justin’s fun wasn’t something he was entirely opposed to.

“Lieutenant Trudeau isn’t a fan of mine,” He smiled pleasantly. “I doubt he’d want me there.”

It wasn’t something he needed to say, since anyone who’d seen them together could have easily made that observation. So why was Morgan asking him? Why was she going against Justin’s interest when presumably that was where her allegiance would be.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” She said. “Justin will warm up to you eventually.”

Emmanuel would have declined, but it seemed that Morgan really wasn’t about to take no for an answer. He didn’t have anything to lose if he accepted the invitation. If anything, there could be some leverage to be gained.

“Fine, where are we going?” 

“You’ll see,” Morgan purred.

To Emmanuel’s surprise, Justin hadn’t offered much resistance to him joining them. He did, however, form a theory as to why this was, once he realized where they were going.

“A bar?” He asked.

Perhaps to Justin the promise of getting Emmanuel properly wasted this time was the incentive for allowing him to join. Of course, this would prove difficult; something Emmanuel had thought Justin would’ve known by then. 

“Indeed,” Xavier confirmed. “A bar.”

Emmanuel found it peculiar that a bar was only the second most obscene location they’d managed to take him. Yet compared to the condition of the rest of the city, excluding the police station, the bar was relatively decent. Booths with dark leather seats, coated with the colored light of the neon signs on the walls. It was more crowded than what Emmanuel had expected, wondering what types of people would usually visit such a place. Did the city really house regular individuals just on a night out to have… well, fun?

They sat down at one of the tables, Emmanuel across from Justin who was sitting next to Morgan. Xavier went to get drinks, while the rest of them made small talk. More specifically; Justin and Morgan were having a discussion, and Emmanuel merely observed his surroundings. He wasn’t surprised when he discovered that most of the people there weren’t without a needle in their arm.

“What kind of place is this…” he mumbled, and Morgan seemed to pick up on his words.

“The bar or the city?” She asked, as Xavier came back with the drinks.

“Are all the people here addicts or something?” Emmanuel asked, not able to take his eyes off of the many needles being exchanged and dumped all around.

“They don’t call it ‘the capitol of the addicts’ for nothing,” Xavier chuckled bitterly.

“When the opioid epidemic broke out a lot of people moved here because the drugs are cheaper. Perhaps they didn’t realize that they wouldn’t be able to leave again.” Morgan explained, running a hand through her hair.

“Corrupt people like the Baron and the Mayor, not to mention big corporations, also gather here. The workers are cheap and the law allows them to do what they can’t on the outside.” Justin added. 

“What about the borders?” Emmanuel asked, trying not to appear too unknowing. “Anyone can get in but no one gets to leave?”

“Correct,” Justin answered. “If you want out then you need a pass. Xavier, Merkel and Shinzo have one, and I assume you have one as well. Morgan and I don’t and neither do the technicians or any civilians.”

“The mayor has a pass,” Morgan said. “But they’ll arrest him on the outside.”

Emmanuel didn’t quite understand that. If the Mayor was a criminal then why hadn’t they arrested him. He voiced this particular question and Xavier explained.

“If we take him down the city falls. The people elected him, and his money. He keeps the people at bay with programs like drug distribution, and there’d be riots if we tried to remove him.”

“Where does the police department get their funding if the people are too poor to pay taxes?” Emmanuel asked.

“The rest of the country pays. You need to buy a trash can before you can fill it with trash.” Xavier hummed, as if what he’d said was particularly poetic. “We’ve got the biggest prison compared to our population as well.”

His comment wasn’t exactly helping the mood, but of course, the mood had never really been that great.

“Hopefully things change once Justin’s proposal gets approved in Congress,” Morgan smiled, as if encouraging Justin to explain further.

“Proposal?” Emmanuel asked, suddenly very curious.

“I want open borders,” Justin answered. “Among other things.”

Emmanuel had to hold back a scoff, not exactly eager to add more tension to the atmosphere.

“That’s…” he said, looking for the right word. “Radical.”

Justin merely shrugged, perhaps not seeing anything wrong with that, and neither apparently did Morgan who appeared perfectly unbothered.

“The clocks show 23.12,” Emmanuel mentioned. “Why not 11.12?”

“Beats me,” Xavier said, and it seemed no one else had anything to add.

They were there to have fun however Emmanuel was mostly interested in the case, and surely it was more productive to focus on that.

“Why is your name not on the client list if you were receiving sexual favors from Angel?” He asked, shattering any possibility of recovering the friendly atmosphere.

“No one from the department was on that list,” Justin answered, clearing his throat. “I’m not sure why.”

The discussion continued like that a bit further, until the song changed and Morgan lit up as she looked at Justin.

“Are you going to ask me to dance or what?” She smiled, as if it was routine.

They got up and joined some other people who were dancing as well. Justin placed his hands on her hips, swaying to the music, and Emmanuel simply looked on uninterested. Terrence had mentioned that Justin was ‘screwing’ Morgan, and Emmanuel had written it off as mere provocation at the time, but perhaps there was some merit to it. They seemed more like a married couple though, with something deeply emotional between them, that made Emmanuel uncomfortable. He couldn’t quite figure out why.

“I’m going to the restroom,” Xavier said, leaving Emmanuel at the table alone.

Justin came back briefly, finishing his drink.

“Do you mind getting me another?” He asked, and Emmanuel nodded since he didn’t have much else to do anyway.

Emmanuel stood at the counter, waiting for the bartender who was mixing the drink. It was easy getting lost in thought, so much so that he almost didn’t notice. To the drink was added a substance, and Emmanuel quickly realized that the drink was being spiked. It didn’t make sense though, the bartender was doing it in plain sight, in front of him. Now he was faced with a dilemma, and a peculiar one at that. Should he tell Justin or merely let him drink it? Justin wouldn’t have to know that Emmanuel had seen the drink being spiked, and it was highly unlikely that Justin would suffer more than just a bad trip. Of course, that wouldn’t exactly benefit anyone, and it could potentially backfire if something really did happen to him. 

And then he understood what should have been obvious from the beginning; it was a test.

When he got back to the table, he sat the drink down in front of Justin, hard enough against the surface to draw the attention of some of the people around them. 

“It’s spiked, but you knew that already didn’t you,” Emmanuel scoffed, not waiting for an answer. “I’m leaving.”

He didn’t wait for Justin to object this time either, as he left the bar without sparing a glance at the rest of the company probably wondering what had happened. When he was out on the street, he could tell that Justin had followed him out, and he turned to him crossing his arms.

“Were you all in on this?” He chuckled, bitterly so. “Morgan would’ve never agreed to it though. You probably told her that you just wanted to get to know me better, and had her ask me to join you. Then you had the bartender spike your drink in front of me to see what I’d do. To see if I was trustworthy. Because if I hadn’t told you that the drink had been spiked then you’d have a reason to report me, and perhaps get me sent back to Washington.”

Justin sighed, and Emmanuel could tell that he’d been right in his theory. That it had been a test. 

“Are you going to tell the chief?” Justin asked, only worried about the practical consequences.

Of course that was all he cared about. Whether or not Emmanuel would snitch. He knew that what he’d done was wrong, however he considered it justified knowing the type of person Emmanuel was. 

“Why would I?” 

“An eye for an eye, right?” Justin shrugged, surprisingly indifferent.

“You’re really something,” Emmanuel said, not hiding the disgust lacing his voice. 

This however seemed to affect Justin. That he’d managed to make Emmanuel think less of him based on his morality, something that Justin was supposed to have more of than Emmanuel. At least that’s what he’d thought. He couldn’t help but notice that he’d used Emmanuel as an excuse to act a way he’d never tolerate from Emmanuel, nor anyone else.

“I’m sorry…” he finally said, and he made sure that his expression showed that he meant it. 

Emmanuel merely shook his head and walked away.

***

“Thought I’d find you here,” Justin mumbled, sitting down across from Emmanuel who was working silently at his desk.

They were back at the police department, an hour from when Emmanuel had left the bar.

“Well,” Emmanuel sighed, absently. “I am staying here after all.”

Justin raised an eyebrow, not really understanding what Emmanuel meant.

“Right, there aren’t any hotels and you don’t have an apartment. It would make sense that you… unless the chief lets you sleep at her place,” Justin pondered, having fun with the thought until he realized that Emmanuel wasn’t exactly listening or engaging in the conversation. “You’re still mad?”

Emmanuel finally looked up at him, expression blank and neutral. He didn’t bother answering, merely focusing on his work once again.

“Okay then let’s fight it out,” Justin suggested, immediately earning an unamused glance from Emmanuel. 

“Very funny,” he answered, taking Justin’s suggestion as a distasteful joke.

“I’m serious,” Justin persisted. 

They both knew that it was stupid and childish, but perhaps there was a point to it, and Emmanuel couldn’t help but be intrigued. Justin probably assumed that because Emmanuel was shorter that he would be easier to subdue in a fight. Proving him wrong would certainly be fun.

“Fine,” Emmanuel agreed, standing up. “Let’s do it.”

Justin flashed a satisfied grin, helping Emmanuel push some tables to the side to make room for them. They both took off their jackets getting into position.

“You know how to block a punch right?” Emmanuel smirked.

“Of course,” Justin answered.

“Good, I wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty face,” Emmanuel said, successfully throwing Justin off with his distracting comment.

He landed a swift kick with his right leg to Justin’s side, easily making him lose balance, then kneeing him in the stomach, knocking all the air out of him. “That’s,” Justin heaved, clutching his stomach. “Cheating.”

Emmanuel opened his arms, as to say ‘come get me’ and Justin happily obliged. He swung his fist, aiming for Emmanuel’s jaw, but was blocked instantly as Emmanuel raised his arm, and Justin ended up hitting his forearm instead. He promptly attempted the same movement with his other fist, being blocked there as well. He barely had time to register anything before Emmanuel took advantage of the position, placing another knee, this time into Justin’s rib. He tumbled backwards, raising his head just in time to see Emmanuel’s foot heading straight for his face, with no time to wonder how Emmanuel had managed to become that flexible, as he had to dodge quickly. He charged forward, elbowing Emmanuel between the ribs, earning a strained gasp. When Emmanuel placed another kick to his side, Justin had time to block it, pulling Emmanuel’s leg to make him lose balance, and fall backwards. Emmanuel, however, planted a fist right into Justin’s other side, causing him to lose his grip of Emmanuel’s leg, allowing him to regain his footing. He shoved Justin back, flinging his leg upwards, hitting Justin under the chin, and throwing his head backwards with the force of his shoe under Justin’s jaw. He figured he’d finish off by roundhouse kicking Justin, and that would be it. But somehow Justin managed to catch his leg once again, pulling it towards him until their chests were touching. Emmanuel wrapped his arms around Justin’s neck, letting go with both feet, and taking Justin down with him. They were left panting, face to face, and Justin on top, resting between Emmanuel’s legs.

“Let’s call it a draw,” Emmanuel smiled, this time genuinely.

Justin found himself speechless, completely caught off guard by how close Emmanuel’s eyes were. It was the first time he’d looked at them like that, and it sent a chill down his spine. He felt Emmanuel’s breathing, slow and steady, as Justin unconsciously took in his scent. There was nothing but the feeling of Emmanuel’s body against his own. Almost like a switch, pushing him over the edge, and he knew that he had to get up before he lost himself in that sirenic teal gaze. He didn’t want to do something stupid, yet it felt as if he already had.

“Yeah,” he said, getting to his feet, and extending a hand to help Emmanuel up as well. “A draw.”

They looked at each other for a while, unsure of what else to do. They’d probably both get some bruises, but nothing too noticeable if they were lucky.

“You have swift reflexes,” Emmanuel pointed out, crossing his arms.

“You’re very flexible,” Justin answered, realizing that the atmosphere was turning awkward to say the least. “Let’s do that again sometime.”


	3. The Warehouse

During the next couple of days, Justin would avoid Emmanuel’s eyes, and not linger with his own gaze for too long. Emmanuel didn’t pay much mind to it, wondering if the blame could be placed upon the fact that they’d settled their argument with a fist fight. He’d thought it to be relatively harmless, and maybe even amusing. But perhaps that was the problem. They weren’t ’friends’and it wasn’t supposed to be fun.

***

They’d done a couple of interrogations, learning little to nothing new, and Emmanuel hadn’t kept track of where Justin had gone when they’d gotten back. He was undoubtedly still somewhere in the building, and since Emmanuel needed Justin’s transcript of their conversation with Xi, he supposed he’d have to find out where Justin had disappeared off to. If he was lucky, he could convince Justin to cut out the part where Xi had insulted him. He spotted Morgan standing at the counter in one of the break rooms. She was making coffee, adding a massive amount of sugar, which weirdly enough didn’t seem to match her mood. The frown on her face didn’t exactly make her look approachable, however Emmanuel figured she’d know where Justin was.

“You want some?” She asked, as Emmanuel walked over.

“No thanks,” he answered, clearing his throat. “Do you know where-”

“I wouldn’t bother him right now,” Morgan answered, cutting him off as she knew exactly who Emmanuel was referring to. “His proposal was rejected, and he’s not taking it… shall we say, well.”

“The open borders proposal?” Emmanuel asked, not surprised that it hadn’t gotten accepted.

“It wasn’t just about open borders,” Morgan sighed, seemingly not sharing Emmanuel’s disinterest. “But yeah I guess that’s the one. He’d worked hard on it, and we all thought… doesn’t matter, just give him some space.”

Emmanuel considered it, wondering if he’d get the transcript if he ignored what he’d just been told and went ahead with his own agenda anyway. 

“Where is he?” Emmanuel asked, figuring he’d give it a try.

“The conference room,” Morgan answered, more or less annoyed by Emmanuel’s persistence, however not about to stop him.

***

The scene in front of Emmanuel was truly pitiful. A half empty bottle of scotch, and Justin slumped over at the desk with a written copy of his proposal. He was looking at it as if he couldn’t quite figure out if he wanted to crumble it up or not. The expression on his face favored the third option of tearing it to shreds, and Emmanuel was surprised that the piece of paper had stayed intact for as long as it had. 

“So?” Emmanuel asked, taking a seat beside him, much to Justin’s displeasure. “Are you going to tear it up or not?”

Justin rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh, contemplating. 

“It wouldn’t really matter either way,” He said, putting it face down on the surface of the desk, and poured himself another glass of scotch. “I guess it never did.”

Emmanuel observed him as he drank, unsure of what to say, and the purpose of why he was there in the first place soon forgotten. It seemed he wouldn’t have to say much as Justin scoffed.

“What do you want?” He snapped at Emmanuel, clearly hostile. “Did you come here to point out that this was a failure? Because I already know that.”

Emmanuel realized that Justin’s hostility probably wasn’t towards him but rather towards himself. As much as he despised playing the therapist, Justin clearly needed one.

“Why do you say that?” He asked, wondering if Justin was even willing to share his thoughts, considering the fact that he didn’t trust Emmanuel very much.

“Why am I even surprised that the proposal got rejected? Of course it did.” Justin laughed at himself. “I guess I’m mostly mad at myself for thinking that there was even the slightest possibility of this not being a huge mistake.”

Emmanuel sighed, contemplating whether or not to point out that Justin trashing himself wasn’t going to help anyone.

“Why is this so important to you?” He asked, recognizing that his question might have seemed a bit dismissive.

“All of these people… they never get to leave this place, all because I screwed up.” Justin sighed, gently tapping his finger against the side of his glass. “All because I couldn’t live up to my father’s expectations.”

Ah, of course. There was something more complicated to it than just politics. What kind of expectations was Justin talking about? Perhaps it was best not to get involved. He turned the paper, reading it quietly as Justin continued to drink. 

“Well, I see some parts that could definitely use improvement.” Emmanuel pointed out, blunt as ever.

“Wow thank you,” Justin scoffed. “Is that all?”

Emmanuel chuckled slightly. Justin certainly wasn’t trying to hide his disdain. But of course, why would he?

“Well you make it seem as if there’s a hoard of addicts ready to take advantage of the social safety net.” Emmanuel sighed, referencing certain parts of the proposal. “And the prospect of open borders makes it seem like a partisan issue.”

Justin listened to Emmanuel, letting him get his points across. He gradually realized all of the tactical errors he’d made, and he and Emmanuel spent the next hours correcting them. In the end he was left with one question that he couldn’t quite seem to answer.

“Why are you helping me?” He asked, and the question seemed to stun Emmanuel as well.

Maybe he hadn’t considered it either. Why was he helping Justin? Was he going to come up with an excuse as to why he was suddenly so ‘nice’ to Justin, or would the truth be sufficient? 

“I don’t know.” Emmanuel answered.

The truth.

“I see,” Justin nodded. “It’s late. I should head home.”

He was exhausted, and the alcohol was wearing off. He really could’ve used some sleep and perhaps he would’ve gotten it, had the chief not called them into her office.

***

“We received a call,” Merkel started. “Unidentified caller, however we traced the location and it’s not exactly shocking.”

She showed them the record, and Justin immediately recognized the location. An abandoned warehouse, usually inhabited by the homeless drug addicts and social outcasts. It wasn’t surprising that this exact spot would cause intrigue, especially to their case.

“So you’re suggesting we go check it out?” Emmanuel asked, crossing his arms.

“I’m suggesting you go scope it out, and if you see something you report it,” she explained.

The fact that she was asking them to do it and not a regular patrol officer indicated that there was cause for worry. She needed someone with experience and someone that she could trust completely. That would be Justin. Emmanuel just happened to be his partner. 

“Right,” Justin said, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Let’s get to it then.”

The chief gave them a brief nod before they left the office. When they were in the elevator, Emmanuel observed Justin who appeared to be struggling slightly. He couldn’t quite figure out if it was the alcohol or the exhaustion, but Justin definitely wasn’t fully capable. 

“Are you going to be okay?” Emmanuel asked, wondering if he was worried for Justin’s or his own sake.

If something happened he needed Justin to function as well as he usually would, because if he couldn’t count on Justin then there was no reason to bring him along.

“Don’t question me,” Justin answered bitterly. “I’m driving by the way.”

Emmanuel simply sighed in response.

***

_ 1996 _

_ “Why don’t we adopt him?” Sanchez asked, holding his breath as he waited for an answer. _

_ “We’ve already got a baby,” She answered, running a gentle hand over her belly. “You agreed not to bring your work home.” _

_ “I know but…” He pleaded. “The boy, he’s a good kid. I can feel it. Plus, you said you wanted a big family, this is our chance.” _

_ She didn’t seem convinced, and perhaps for good reasons. He hesitated, but got up, approaching her. He knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. _

_ “You’d be a good mother for him,” Sanchez smiled. “He’ll need us.” _

_ She considered for a few seconds, but he already knew he’d won her over. _

_ “Okay.” _

_ —— _

_ “Seems like a conflict of interest,” Lagarde said.  _

_ “Of course,” Sanchez answered. “Which is even better. I can tell he trusts me.” _

_ Lagarde scoffed slightly, shaking her head. _

_ “We both know his diagnosis is going to make it harder for him to get adopted, but we’re willing to take him in.” Sanchez argued. “All you have to do is let us.” _

_ Lagarde considered it attentively, but ended up nodding. _

_ “Fine,” She answered. “But we’re following all regular procedures. If you’re doing this, it’s going to be the right way.” _

_ —— _

_ “This is your room,” Sanchez said, showing the boy around. “If you ever need anything, just say so.” _

_ “This is your new home Emmanuel.” _

***

They started out scouring the area, with their guns pointed in a manner that was perfectly synchronized to protect each other. More out of routine, than willingness. keeping their focus on every opening for attack, rather than the bodies on the floor, and the blood licking the sole of their shoes, hastily climbing up their ankles. Even with the adrenaline pumping, Justin had to force his eyes to stay open, and sharp nonetheless. 

(3 minutes before)

They pulled up at the abandoned warehouse, keeping the lights off in discretion. None of them said anything for a few seconds, as they scanned the surroundings and considered the tactic of entrance. The car was parked under a row of scaffoldings leading towards a massive gash in the building. 

“Yeah, something is definitely not right…” Justin mumbled, keeping his eyes on the cracks in the building. “It’s usually more…”

“Noisy?” Emmanuel suggested.

Justin nodded quietly, as he continued contemplating. 

“We should call for backup,” He added.

“Whatever you say,” Emmanuel answered.

As soon as Justin had done so, he leaned back with a growing frustration in his body, knowing that he wanted to go in. He wanted to see for himself before anyone else got to. He didn’t get far in his contemplation though, because when his vision focused in on the front window again, a thick mass was steadily dripping down, splattering across the surface.

“Is that… blood?”

“I think so.” Emmanuel answered, reaching for the handle of the car door.

“Wait-” Justin warned, but the detective was already headed for the dark of the building. “Seriously…”

He sprinted over the wet stones, not bothering to check whether it was blood or rain. He caught up just as they made it inside, and it started pouring outside. 

(Present)

“We should examine the scaffolding out there.” Justin suggested, keeping his gun on every corpse they crossed.

“No, he might have gone through there.” Emmanuel objected, pointing to the slightly ajar double doors. “That’s the top priority right? Catching him.”

“There might be survivors.” Justin said.

He didn’t let the detective object and immediately continued stepping towards the scaffoldings. Emmanuel hesitated slightly, but ended up taking the hurried departure as a sign that he would focus on his own preferred objective. Justin would focus on his own apparently. 

The lieutenant balanced his weight carefully as to not stumble over the numerous bodies piled on top of each other. Even though it was impossible not to step in the flood of red fresh blood, he decided to respectfully let the forensics handle the bodies when they’d show up eventually. He searched for a movement that would indicate the presence of survivors, but found none. Loose teeth were rattling wherever he stepped, and he had to force himself not to think about the process of how they got there. He’d almost given up, when he heard a faint rustling behind him, but when he turned around with his gun pointed right at the source, there was nothing. An unpleasant feeling stirred in him for a few seconds before he decided to follow the noise. When he was inside the warehouse again, there seemed to be no difference from when he’d first entered, until he saw the doors Emmanuel had gone through. He knew that the detective wouldn’t have closed the doors behind him, or even touched them, in order to preserve any forensic evidence. He walked over, finding it difficult to keep his eyes everywhere at once, but soon had other things to worry about when he discovered that the door was locked. He’d have to find a way around.

  
  
  


Emmanuel continued down the rust-pestered halls, mildly surprised to find even more bodies strewn across the floors. There was a faint glimmer of something he seemed to recognize, but he couldn’t quite tell. He was about to reach out for it, but never made it. A sharp stinging sensation spreading from his neck was all it took for him to know that he wasn’t going to make it. It was strange. He knew what was going to happen, and that it wouldn’t matter if he tried to resist. He knew this was it. These were the last few minutes of his life, yet he didn’t feel despair, nor resentment. It was almost peaceful. Even if he was going to devour himself and possibly someone else, someone innocent, it was out of his control now. What had happened to Angel would now happen to him.

“Shhh…” The voice behind him whispered.

Hands were holding him steady, as the last fluid was injected into his veins. There was no strength left, it only took those first couple of drops to render him incapable of standing himself, and his knees gave out beneath him, causing him to kneel. His surroundings were getting hazy, and all sound was drowned out by his own heartbeat slowing down drastically. He wasn’t sure if the sound of footsteps approaching was real, there was no way of knowing in his state. But the gunshots were indeed real, and louder than anything else. And then the pressure disappeared, the syringe dropped to the ground beneath him. There was no one behind him after the bullets had scraped the ground. The person had most likely fled. But it was too late. The drug was already in his blood. He collapsed completely, even as the footsteps closed in, with a promise of rescue. He already felt the hunger.

There were words. Words that were stuck in his mind, that he couldn’t express. They were bitter, perhaps because he knew they would never be said, and never be heard. They were cruel and selfish and so he couldn’t help but feel that it was better that way.

“Shinzo-”

Justin sounded erratic and yet somehow composed as he was calling for help. He was supporting Emmanuel’s back with his arm, holding him close to his chest.

Stupid

He felt his strength return, faster than he could handle.

So stupid

“You need to go,” Emmanuel wheezed, as things were getting dangerous. 

“Shut up,” Justin answered.

Emmanuel began to struggle, trying to push him away, but that only caused Justin to hold on tighter.

“Kill me,” Emmanuel whispered, fighting a predatory growl forming in his chest. “Before I…” He tried to finish his plea, but the knot of suppressed growls in his throat prevented him from doing so.

Justin knew what Emmanuel wanted him to do, and for a brief second, he considered it. But only for a second. Because he knew that maybe there was a chance, and maybe no one would have to die. 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

At that point Emmanuel knew that Justin could never do it. His strength started flowing all the way to the tips of his fingers. Perhaps now was the time to be selfish, and say the words out loud. But he didn’t. He just focused on the cold metal resting at his side, that he’d dropped when the needle hit his vein. He made sure that the only attempt he’d make would be successful, by waiting till enough energy had returned. It was quiet. He wouldn’t have to think about anything, not anymore. He just maintained eye contact with Justin who was trembling almost as much as he himself was. At least he’d keep the words safe, when there was no one to voice them. And so he decided, now was it. 

“Solve our case…” 

He raised the gun to his temple in a swift movement, praying to hit the target before Justin could stop him. 

“Just let me work!” Justin yelled, ripping the gun away, and throwing it across the ground. 

Emmanuel groaned slightly, trying not to imagine the taste of flesh he was soon to expect.

“Don’t let me become-”

“I won’t. So just shut up and don’t die.”

Emmanuel continued to struggle, in an attempt to escape Justin’s hold of him. This however, just seemed to agitate Justin further, and he tightened his grip.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn…” He hissed. 

Emmanuel felt the warmth of Justin’s body and couldn’t bring himself to struggle more than he’d already done. Had it always felt so comforting to be embraced? He closed his eyes, knowing that he wouldn’t be himself the next time he opened them. 

  
  


He was fighting against the leather between his teeth, forcefully pushed into his mouth in order to keep him from biting off his tongue. All his muscles were twitching, and his veins pushed against his skin, threatening to burst. Justin was on top of him holding down the belt, as blood coated the leather, running from the torn up sides of his mouth. There was no trace of humanity left behind his eyes, and it seemed permanent. There was nothing but animalistic growls, and choked up sounds of struggle. He was cuffed to a broken metal pipe, causing the rattling sound of metal against metal to echo throughout the building. 

“You’re okay,” Justin whispered, hoping that Emmanuel would register his words. “You’re okay…”

He kept their eyes locked together even as Emmanuel didn’t seem to look at anything in particular. His eyes were just empty. Yet Justin still sensed the pleading expression, begging him to flee. 

“You’re okay,” He repeated. “Focus.”

Emmanuel, starving as he clearly was, flung up at him, straining vigorously against the cuffs. Even as it seemed impossible to reach the target, he continued until Justin was struggling to keep him down. He desperately clung to the belt, pushing it further. Emmanuel made a swift attempt, striking upwards, and he didn’t stop at the sickening sound of his shoulder dislocating. Justin knew that it was only a matter of time before his other shoulder would dislocate as well.

“Focus,” He repeated, this time louder.

He pushed his forehead against Emmanuel’s and forced him down. It only distracted him for a few seconds before he was snapping at Justin, biting the belt. He pressed his forehead further against Emmanuel’s, and inhaled the blood, praying that it would keep him still. He continued putting his weight onto Emmanuel’s legs to prevent him from moving, knowing he couldn’t keep it up for much longer. And just as it seemed like he was about to give up; The body beneath him lay still. He turned to the sound of tools rustling, while wiping his bloodied hands off in his shirt.

“Untie him and get in the van,” Shinzo ordered, putting the syringe back into his briefcase. 

Justin stared at him in confusion, climbing off of Emmanuel. 

“What did you…” 

“Sedative. He’ll be out for a couple of hours.”

Justin nodded, and uncuffed the body. He removed the belt carefully, then lifting him and carrying him to the back of the van, then got into the driver's seat, as Shinzo inspected the injuries. 

“Where’s backup? They were supposed to be here by now.” Justin said bitterly.

“They’re not coming. Chief’s orders.” Shinzo answered, prompting Justin to clench his fists around the wheel.

“Are we taking him to the hospital?” Justin asked, needing to know the location.

He saw Shinzo through the rearviewmirror listening to Emmanuel’s breathing, his ear so dangerously close that it made Justin shiver as he remembered how Emmanuel had flung up at him with bared teeth. Shinzo undoubtedly had faith in the sedative, to the point he’d risk losing a limb had the dosage been insufficient.

“We can’t bring him to a place where the sick and vulnerable are being treated,” Shinzo argued, shining a light in Emmanuel’s eyes, looking for brain activity. “Go back to the station, we’ll improvise.”

***

When Justin had left Shinzo to deal with the detective, he barged into the chief’s office. Not bothering to knock was something Justin hadn’t done since Morgan had gotten promoted before him. This situation seemed just as fitting.

“What the fuck!” He yelled, crossing his arms, and standing in front of her desk. 

He knew that it would be difficult to express his frustration completely, without seeming like a child throwing a tantrum.

Chief Merkel didn’t seem the least bit surprised, as she closed the report in her hands and pushed her glasses over her eyes. She did however, look displeased.

“How may I help you Lieutenant?”

“How? Well why don’t you start by explaining why you canceled back-up? Your detective from Washington is dying.” Justin answered.

The chief calmly leaned back in her chair, and sighed before speaking.

“If you’re suggesting that I should’ve sent my men into that drug infested den of death, you must be a fool. We have no idea what this chemical is, and you should know better than to expect me to risk more innocent lives.”

Justin couldn’t believe it. Both he and Emmanuel had been in danger, and she couldn’t have known who else might have been. Had she simply seen them as expendable? 

“This is our job! Risking our lives to save others. Not being cowards and running away.” Justin hissed.

Throughout his time under the chief’s authority, he had entrusted her with his life and the lives of his subordinates, however now his trust seemed to falter.

“Relax lieutenant. No one survived anyway and you know it. We’ve got people guarding the area, and we’ll go in tomorrow.”

Justin felt his skin flare up with anger, but knew that his objections would be of no use. Even had he made valid points, she would’ve disregarded them out of pride, and confidence in her own decision making.

“Tell your friends from Washington that their guy died under your watch.”

And just like that he left.

***

Justin stepped into the office outside of the lab, ready to get the facts straight. He looked around but didn’t see Shinzo anywhere, which was rather odd. Now that things had calmed down a little he realized just how exhausted he was. His eyelids fluttered slightly, and almost shut right then and there. 

“Lieutenant.”

Justin jumped slightly, and turned around to find Shinzo right behind him.

“Jesus…”

Shinzo walked past him, and grabbed a key from his desk, gesturing for Justin to follow him out. They went down with the elevator, heading for the basement.

“Anything new about…” Justin mumbled, feeling nausea rising to his head.

“Xavier is keeping an eye on him. Other than that; no.” Shinzo answered, and the elevator came to a stop. “Tell me if you recognize any of the victims.”

When Justin first lay eyes upon the many cadaver-decorated tables, he almost felt sorry for Shinzo who had to get wrist deep in every cavity. The entire thing looked like an underground parking lot, however the dense climate carrying the miasma of decay was unmistakable. Long rows of metal slabs supporting the nameless bodies were contributing to the overall effect of hopelessness, and Justin couldn’t stop himself from quietly counting the corpses. There were at least 40. He tried dehumanizing the subjects by telling himself that they wouldn’t be missed. And most likely that was correct.

“How did he manage to inject this many people without any struggle?” 

Shinzo hummed, pleased with Justin’s critical thinking. He spread his arms in a wide gesture, directed at the many cadavers.

“They’re junkies,” He said. “They injected themselves, probably believing they were given a fentanyl mix.”

Justin scoffed at himself for not realizing it earlier. It was obvious, and the one responsible wouldn’t have had to work hard for it to succeed. 

“It’s going to take weeks, if not months to identify all of them,” Shinzo sighed, clearly frustrated. “If it’s even possible, I mean, these bodies have been mutilated to an inconceivable extent.”

Justin took the hint, nodding.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”


	4. Paranoid

It had been two days. Emmanuel had been put into a medically induced coma, keeping him unconscious as his body repaired itself. Justin had been avoiding not just the thought of Emmanuel, but also his physical being. He had every chance to go see him, but whenever he managed to drag his feet anywhere close to where Emmanuel was, the nausea rose, and he backed out. Perhaps there was a link between the two. He associated the anxiety from that night with Emmanuel, because it was all he could think about. 

Perry had been assigned to the case in Emmanuel’s absence, and Justin couldn’t exactly complain. After all, wasn’t that what he’d wanted? He’d practically begged to have Emmanuel taken off the case, so why did it feel so… unnatural?

In the end he’d decided that he should at least pay Emmanuel a visit, just for the sake of decency. 

***

Justin sat down in the chair beside the bed, taking in the atmosphere. Although the detective was there and alive, he could still recognize the feeling of being alone with a corpse; something he had done more often than he’d preferred the last few weeks. But still it was different since Emmanuel looked so at ease, almost relieved. Justin knew that if he held Emmanuel’s hand, it was sure to be warm. If he listened to his chest he’d feel the vibrations of a beating heart. But he stayed in the chair, sitting, thinking. He resisted the instinct of comforting the helpless body in front of him, even though the urge was there. Time seemed to play no role, as he continued to wait there, almost entranced, looking at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. It remained quiet, at least until the heart monitor started sounding irregular. He looked up at Emmanuel who appeared unaffected since the last glance Justin had cast at him. But sure enough the heart rate had picked up speed according to the monitor. Justin pushed his chair closer, and fixed his eyes on the otherwise peaceful looking body. His own heart skipped a beat once he saw the wet track on Emmanuel’s cheek. It was almost unreal, and Justin couldn’t look away as tears continued to spill from those long lashes and trail down his cheeks. Crying was an act associated with emotion, however, there was no emotion on Emmanuel’s face, just shallow tears. He considered leaving, as he suddenly felt like he was intruding, but he couldn’t get himself to walk away. The monitor left a lingering worry after each sound it produced, and Justin became more reluctant to sit still. He leaned over, taking Emmanuel’s hand carefully leading it up to his own upper body, and pressing the palm of his hand against the center of his chest. Almost as if on cue, Emmanuel’s own heart rhythm slowed down gradually. Perhaps he could register or sense the presence of another person at his side, or the steady vibrations of Justin’s heart, that reminded his unconscious mind that he was still alive. Pretty soon everything returned to the state it was in when Justin had first walked in, with Emmanuel’s heart synchronizing with his own to a paced rhythm. He gently lay down Emmanuel’s hand back at his side, and leaned back. 

He noted that the improvised ICU was functioning relatively well, but the flaws were visible. The detective was still in the same white shirt he’d worn when he’d been injected, however unbuttoned, and exposing the wires attached to his chest. 

“What are you doing here?” Shinzo asked sternly, as he entered the room, nearly giving Justin a heart attack.

“I just needed to check in,” He answered. “Washington wants him back after all.”

Shinzo simply nodded, then approached the bed. He leaned over Emmanuel, opening each eyelid and flashing a light into his eyes. Justin couldn’t help but notice the teal color responding to the light with a sharp shining.

“Not brain dead yet,” Shinzo mumbled.

“When can you wake him up again?” Justin asked.

“When the drug has subsided from his system.” Shinzo answered. “A week tops.”

Justin sighed, slightly more disappointed than he wanted Shinzo to notice.

“We won’t know until he wakes up if his body has taken permanent damage, but as far as I can see he’ll survive.

“Right, I should go.” Justin answered.

He paced slightly before exiting the room, resisting the urge to look back. A memory flared up in his mind out of nowhere and quickly consumed him. When he was 9 a friend of his dad’s, who was like an uncle to him, had gotten out of a coma that had lasted almost three months. They were walking together, back to the house, after going for a walk like they had so many times before. 

Justin - curious as he understandably was - asked; “What’s it like sleeping for so long?”

And his dad’s friend had answered; “I had both dreams and nightmares, but mostly nightmares. At least a thousand of them.”

“What were they about?” Justin asked, imagining the monsters that always appeared in his own nightmares.

“Gruesome things… I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Back then it had seemed strange to Justin, that the man who was usually so talkative and beaming with love for life, was now different somehow. Until his own nightmares changed as well, from monsters who didn’t exist to those who do. Because humans turn out to be worse, and even more evil. But kids don’t know that, until they do. And now he wondered if Emmanuel had seen the same things his dad’s friend had. Spending hours straight being tortured by your own mind would probably change anyone. Remembering the times he himself had woken up in a cold sweat barely escaping the grasp of a simulation created by his own mind to terrorize him in his sleep, and then considering what it would have been like to not have woken up, to have been chained up in a mental prison for days like a never ending nightmare, truly made him shiver. So he pushed the thought away, knowing that it could very well happen to him as well.

***

_ 1997 _

_ The plate hit the floor, and splintered, it’s contents spattering onto anything near it. Emmanuel stood in front of the mess as she turned to him and the noise he’d made. _

_ “Sorry,” He said, looking up at her. _

_ The baby started crying, and she hurried to pick it up, giving Emmanuel a furious scowl.  _

_ “You did that on purpose!” She snapped. “Clean it up right now!” _

_ Emmanuel gave her a blank stare, then stepped down decisively on a piece of the shattered plate, forcing out tears. _

_ “You-” She screamed, as Sanchez entered the kitchen. “Get a hold of that boy!” _

_ The baby cried hysterically, and Emmanuel sobbed along, standing in a puddle of his blood.  _

_ “He did it on purpose!” She yelled, desperately trying to comfort the baby in her arms. _

_ “Don’t be ridiculous,” Sanchez answered, picking up Emmanuel, and carrying him to the bathroom. _

_ He sat him down next to the sink, wrapping a towel around his foot to stop the bleeding. _

_ “She doesn’t like me,” Emmanuel sniffled. “It was an accident I swear.” _

_ “I know,” Sanchez answered, handling the first aid kit. “She’ll come around, she’s just stressed with the baby that’s all.” _

_ He cleaned up in the kitchen, and Emmanuel would sit, quietly watching. _

***

Justin and Morgan were sitting with some of the technicians, having an ordinary conversation, which, Justin couldn’t lie, he hadn’t had enough of for a long time. He hadn’t talked to anyone about what had happened, and he didn’t feel the need to either. He noticed Shinzo standing in the doorframe, arms crossed, and potentially waiting for an opening in the conversation. 

“He’s awake,” Shinzo said, and the room fell quiet. 

Justin felt his heart leap, but made an effort to stay indifferent.

“I’m headed for target practice…” Morgan said, giving Justin’s shoulder a quick squeeze, before she was off.

Justin followed Shinzo, getting more anxious with every step, even though he was relatively relieved that Emmanuel had woken up.

“He’s not in great shape,” Shinzo said, clearing his throat. “I’ve done what I could but if you can then please help him wash up. I need to inform the chief that he’s awake as well, so you’ll have some space.”

Justin would have laughed, had it not been extremely inappropriate for him to do so and had he not been prevented from doing so by the knot in his throat. Emmanuel would never allow Justin to do what Shinzo was asking of him, but he supposed he was about to find out.

  
  


“I’ll help you, so don’t overwork yourself,” Justin said, turning on the bathroom light as Emmanuel started pulling wires off of his body.

“Wait, I’m not sure you’re supposed to-”

“I’m fine,” Emmanuel sneered. “Just fucking go already.”

Emmanuel didn’t seem that different, perhaps a bit more hostile, but Justin didn’t see much of a deviation. Physically however, it was clear that Emmanuel was suffering withdrawal symptoms as the chemicals left his system. Locks of damp hair were sticking to his forehead, his body glistening with sweat and fever-stricken. Face pale, and drained of color. His expression carrying a subtle hint of exhaustion and defeat. Most notably the teal gaze faded and dull.

“You’re still covered in blood and filth. I can get Shinzo if you’d rather have him help you, but we both know you can’t do it yourself after dislocating your shoulder. You can barely move your hands.” Justin said, referring to the bruises decorating Emmanuel’s wrists like thick bracelets, he had sustained during his struggle with the cuffs. 

Emmanuel didn’t answer but simply nodded slightly without looking at him. Justin took it as a sign and walked over with the bowl of heated water, placing it at his feet. He got a clean cloth from a drawer and added antiseptics into the water.

“You can keep your underwear on,” He added, as he dipped the cloth into the water.

“I never intended to take them off,” Emmanuel scoffed in response.

Justin reached out, supporting his elbow, and carefully brushed the cloth over his forearm. He felt Emmanuel wince slightly.

“Is it too hot?” He asked.

“It’s fine, just get it over with…” Emmanuel sighed, perhaps not wanting Justin to see him struggling.

It made sense. His appearance was that of someone damaged, maybe not just physically, but beyond that. It only became more clear as Justin rested his gaze on him, eyeing every dent that his polished facade had sustained. He lay bare for Justin to see. See that he was human and broken the way humans tend to be. If he’d known how, Justin would’ve conveyed that when Emmanuel was vulnerable, he was also the most approachable.

Justin continued down his wrist, gently grazing the dark marks, and where the skin had been torn. It looked absolutely excruciating, however Emmanuel didn’t seem to pay much attention to it. Perhaps more focused on Justin’s movements with the cloth as it traveled along the curves of his body. However that could potentially play out to his advantage.

When he got to Emmanuel’s fingertips, he had to push away the thought of lingering there, remembering Emmanuel’s fingertips against his own chest. He quickly moved on to Emmanuel’s shoulder, and continued from there onto his torso, feeling slightly awkward as he did so. The cloth was now laced with blood and he dipped it into the water once more, coloring it a bright red. He didn’t want to admit it, but seeing Emmanuel in the pain that he was in, triggered his sympathy. When he laid the cloth on his collarbone, letting it wander up his neck and then to his cheek, he could sense Emmanuel leaning into his touch.

“Do you remember anything?” He asked, carefully brushing the cloth over the bruised skin near the waistband of his boxers.

“Not after losing consciousness.” Emmanuel answered, his voice hoarse. “What about you? Did you see the person who…”

“No,” Justin sighed. “Everything is blurry. As if my mind doesn’t want to remember.”

”I see,” Emmanuel said.

Justin nodded slightly, wiping the blood off his rib when a hand on his wrist stopped him. He looked from where his wrist was being crushed, to Emmanuel’s blazing eyes, suddenly ignited.

“It wasn’t your choice to make.” Emmanuel said slowly, tightening the grip around Justin’s wrist, even though his own ached fiercely as he did so. “You shouldn’t have stopped me.”

Justin stared, frozen in place as he faced a side of Emmanuel he hadn’t seen before, and had hoped to never be faced with. Something truly wicked, and even less humane than when the cannibalistic impulses had invaded him. Emmanuel didn’t strike him as suicidal, but perhaps it wasn’t about wanting to die. When Emmanuel had reached for the gun, Justin recognized the behavior as that of someone acting out of impulse. A stupid one for sure. Unless the motive was practicality. For all they knew the injection was a death sentence anyway. At least until now.

“Perhaps you should be thanking me,” Justin answered. “Weakness doesn’t suit you,” He lied.

A slight laugh escaped Emmanuel’s lips. It wasn’t warm, nor hostile. But the flickers in his eyes were without a doubt fueled by aggression. 

“Well,” He answered suggestively. “I thought a bullet in my head was exactly what you wanted. Or is a bullet not the object you wanted inside of me?”

Justin wasn’t surprised, he didn’t change his demeanor, and he certainly wasn’t going to show that for a split second he was mildly intrigued. But just as he thought that maybe he was done with feeling drawn in, he looked at Emmanuel, the beautiful sight that he was, and fell into the familiar trance-like frame of mind. Staring into those teal eyes that he had come to admire so much. This was only different in that the glow was stronger. That glow of insanity he was drawn in by, but couldn’t quite describe. Without thinking, without caring, Justin surged forward, catching Emmanuel’s lips roughly. He grabbed his messy curls tightly to gain dominance, which he had so desperately craved since the day he’d locked eyes with Emmanuel in the chief’s office. Every time he’d seen that smug face, all he wanted to do was dominate, and force Emmanuel to his knees. It was mostly about the place he held in the eyes of his superiors. Justin really despised that. The way Emmanuel had everyone fooled, even when they obviously knew the reason for his persuasiveness. It was like living among addicts knowing they were hooked but never willing to change their habits. Justin refused to become that way, but here he was getting high off of the drug he swore never wanting to touch. He wasn’t waiting for approval, continuing to consume the pride building up in him as he felt that dominance. It was a dead end but he was determined to enjoy every second of it. And so he kept clashing with the wreckage in front of him, ignoring the wounds as he selfishly fulfilled his own desires. He didn’t think much of it when Emmanuel grabbed his jaw and forced his lips onto his neck.

“Who’s the sick one now?” Emmanuel whispered right into Justin’s ear with a sweet tone. 

They were already intertwined, even after Justin paused in the embrace, draining every warmth out of his touch. Only now did he understand, and only now did he regret. He had in spite of his efforts to remain independent, wound up exactly where Emmanuel had planned. 

“I’m not anything like you.” Justin hesitated.

He was fragile and exposed now, not to mention aware that he had lost. Just like that. He’d given into his lust and had lost his integrity, along with every trait he’d been so proud of. it barely even occurred to him. 

“Did I give you permission?” Emmanuel smiled innocently. “If I hadn’t said anything you would have kept going, right?”

Justin shivered, feeling himself becoming terrified of his own negligence. He’d been so focused on Emmanuel’s conduct, wanting to catch him in an act of cruelty, and in the end he turned out to be the cruel one himself.

“You wanted these lips on it, didn’t you? Good boy.” Emmanuel smiled, his grip still on Justin’s jaw, and reluctant to let go as he felt him trembling. “Ask for it. Ask and I might consider it,” Emmanuel whispered.

Justin growled slightly in response, and considered - only for a second - admitting that he wanted it. But out of pride, and that last ounce of self control, he backed away. Storming out of the room, and down the empty halls, he finally reached a broken light in the loft. He crouched down, out of breath in frustration. He covered his head in his arms as if diving into the darkness he was surrounded by. 

“Shit,” He whimpered, as he reached down where his lower half had responded so eagerly, huffing in irritation. “I need to fix this.” 

***

Justin stared at her the way he’d done so many times before. Taking in her beauty and complexion, observing how every move she made was with intent and elegance. It had been a while, but he didn’t let his gaze wander off. He just looked. Looked as she lowered the gun and reloaded it. Looked as she rose it and hit the target relentlessly. He really adored that.

“Stop drooling Justin,” Morgan said. 

He laughed slightly, amazed that she had caught his glances while hitting the target perfectly. 

“I wasn’t,” Justin answered with a smile. “But… you know why I’m here.”

Morgan sighed, contemplating, as she worked her way through the information at hand. Of course she knew, it sure wasn’t target practice. 

“You need a distraction.” She concluded. 

Justin nodded with a slight chuckle. He approached her with an innocent look on his face.Wrapped his arms around her perfect waist. Stroked her pale cheek that hinted a lack of sun. 

“Well?” He smirked.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

  
  


He dug his nails into her thigh, harder with every thrust, and she had no complaints. They continued more urgently than they usually would.

“You’re really backed up huh?” Morgan said between gasps. 

“Fuck!” Justin moaned.

She ran her tongue along his collarbone, teasing slightly as she pushed him into her with her ankles at the back of his thighs.

“Finish inside me,” She growled. “Come for me yes?”

Justin thrust into her even harder.

She instantly gasped, pulling his hair, and biting his earlobe.

She grabbed his jaw and forced his eyes over her shoulder, so that he couldn’t see anything but the darkness of the sheets, knowing what Justin would need to get himself off, and that it wasn’t her.

Justin Imagined him, his cocky expression. Being on his knees. Begging, and helpless, just the way he wanted him to. He let the image form in his mind, letting the entire scenario play out. Of course, play out in his favor. He moaned harder with every movement as he got his way, even if it was only in his head.

“Good boy.” Morgan panted, setting a fire where she’d hoped to start one from the beginning. 

Justin shuddered, not trying to hold back as he remembered how Emmanuel had talked to him in that arrogant tone.

“Good boy.” 

And he came. Thinking of Emmanuel as he did so. 

“Well,” Morgan said, taking a drag at her cigarette. “Tell me what had you so pent up.”

“Do we have to talk about this now?” Justin asked, face down on the mattress. Still wrapped up in the sheets.

Morgan chuckled sheepishly, putting out the cigarette, and pulling on an old sweater. They weren’t facing each other, and she was sitting against the frame of the bed on the floor.

“Honey if you’re gonna screw me, obviously thinking about someone else, you should at least tell me who. Is it… Angel?”

“God no. Lets just say things haven’t been the same since Detective ‘oh so perfect’ joined the department.” Justin said bitterly. “It doesn’t make any sense. All he does is talk shit, yet I’m still…”

“I’m not surprised. You’re such a masochist. always have been, always will be. I’m definitely not surprised.” Morgan laughed, knowing exactly why Justin was so infatuated with him.

Justin threw a pillow in her direction, hitting her in the back of her head, which only made her laugh even more.

“I don’t get it.” Justin said. “He’s a fucking brat.”

“And you like him,” Morgan teased. “No matter what he’s like, you can’t stop being attracted to him.”

“Watch me,” Justin scoffed.

Morgan didn’t push back, but she knew who was right. “I’ll let you have him. Just because I’m nice.” 

“So very generous of you,” Justin scoffed.

***

_ 1998 _

_ “He’s doing well in school,” Sanchez said, folding laundry, as his wife changed their toddler’s diaper. “The teachers seem to like him as well.” _

_ “I see,” She answered. “You know, I read that psychopaths tend to have a higher IQ. He might be seen favorably by the teachers because of his manipulative behavior.” _

_ “He’s hard-working,” Sanchez said dismissively. “You don’t have to be a psychopath to do well in school.” _

_ “I know,” She shrugged. “But I also read that-” _

_ “You read too much. If you continue to paint a clinical picture of him, you’ll just dehumanize him. He keeps to himself and does what is asked of him.” _

_ “It’s an act,” She scoffed. _

_ “Why are you so determined to assign him ulterior motives?” Sanchez asked, putting a pile of folded clothes into the closet.  _

_ “You’d know if you read the studies on antisocial personality disorder,” She answered. “You can’t look out, if you don’t know what to look out for.” _

_ “Or I’ll become paranoid like you,” Sanchez sighed.  _

***

Both Shinzo and Xavier were seated at the table when Emmanuel and Justin arrived. They joined them quietly, neither of them having much to say, especially Justin. The clock read 20:03. 

“Let’s discuss the recent findings.” Xavier suggested, and Shinzo nodded in agreement. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way detective, but your circumstances has helped us learn more about the drug.”

“Happy to help i suppose,” Emmanuel answered. “Care to explain these findings then?”

Xavier nodded with an awkward smile, and Justin poured all of them a shot, presumably vodka, which most at the table knew to be the lieutenant’s preferred liquor. Despite his dislocated shoulder and the sling restricting his movements, Emmanuel downed the shot effortlessly, before Shinzo could object. Justin felt slightly guilty, if only for a moment, until he reminded himself of the night before. 

“We have no clear answer to what this drug consists of.” Xavier explained. “However we’ve formed several hypotheses.” 

Justin seemed more or less distracted, as though he did not belong in the conversation. Everything that had once been his territory was simply no more. 

“While the analysis showed no definitive answer, there are of course things we can rule out, and things we’ll know with a reasonable degree of certainty. For one; This was no virus (Seeming as the substance is not infectious), nor was it a prion disease (considering the incubation period). I have reason to believe that we are talking about a non-lethal chemical. The chemical on it’s own is not lethal, and the detective here is living proof, therefore we know that it is possible to reverse the effects, at least to a certain extent. We are not aware of a dosage that could bring forth instant death or if such exists. However to quote Paracelsus - The father of toxicology - ‘All things are poison, and nothing is without poison; only the dose permits something not to be poisonous.’ That’s why I’m reluctant to classify this as a lethal chemical, because in theory; Everything is lethal at a certain dosage. So far the substance has only been administered intravenously, though it could be possible that the drug be administered through the oral, ocular, otic, rectal, nasal, or transdermal route. We don’t know at which dosage the substance would be benign, but any dosage above 3 mg could potentially have lethal effects. The dissemination period is minutes, this could of course differ from individual to individual depending on weight, height and dosage.”

“Putting aside the… science stuff, what’s happening?” Justin asked.

“If you’re referring to the visible effects the drug has on the body, I’d say we have a few behavioral aspects taking place that we can conclude as being induced by this chemical. Subjects seem to be turning cannibalistic, even willing to devour themselves, with absolutely no regard for survival, if there is no other individual for consumption. Even more worrying, subject seem to strive for fatality, whether themselves or innocent bystanders. They also seem to have no care for filial relations.”

***

After they’d spent what felt like hours (at least on Justin’s behalf) with Shinzo and Xavier, he and the detective were on their way upstairs. Justin felt mildly responsible for Emmanuel in that moment, and he decided to make sure the detective got back to his room without any trouble. 

“I’m not suffering from amnesia you know,” Emmanuel said. “I know where I’m supposed to go.”

“You almost died the last time I let you wander off on your own.” Justin answered. “I really don’t need your boss on my back again.”

“Right, any word from Sanchez? It’s unusual for him to stay quiet like this.” Emmanuel frowned, seeming almost offended.

“Calls go through chief Merkel. As far as I know she’s gonna throw me under the bus.” Justin scoffed, and pushed the button in the elevator.

“You did breach protocol by going in unauthorized.”

“Protocol doesn’t exist here.” Justin answered dismissively. “And you were the one who went in first.”

When they turned the corner to the empty office the detective was occupying, Justin immediately drew his gun and pointed it at the figure in front of them.

“Lieutenant Trudeau I assume,” A man in an expensive suit said.

Justin didn’t lower his gun, even though he knew who the stranger was. He merely saw the situation in which Sanchez had showed up to be suspicious to say the least. Emmanuel chuckled slightly, taking a step towards his boss, prompting Justin to finally lower the gun.

“Didn’t expect you to come all the way to this dump just to look at my bruised face.” He smirked innocently.

“Chief Merkel was so kind as to invite me.” Sanchez answered, keeping the same stern look on his face as when Justin had pointed a gun at him.

“Thank you for walking me here lieutenant,” Emmanuel said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Justin took the cue and turned back to the hall he’d walked across just minutes before. He hadn’t even reached the elevator when he spotted an ID card lying on the floor. He carefully picked it up and turned it over to see the information decorating the surface. 

“Emmanuel Macron” it said. 

It seemed almost ironic. The detective had given them hell for being careless and sloppy regarding their security when the DNA samples had been stolen, and confidential information leaked. And now he himself was throwing around vital items for keeping the investigation secure. Justin scoffed slightly, but decided to return it immediately, perhaps with a reprimand of his own. He turned around the corner once again, mildly agitated, and stopped in front of the door to the office. Before he could knock, he noticed the door being slightly ajar, and even enough for him to see the scene clearly. His heartbeat caught speed once he felt trapped by his own curiosity, now standing there shamelessly intruding on their privacy. 

“Well?” Emmanuel said, crossing his arms.

“What?” Sanchez asked dismissively.

“You didn’t come here on a vacation. Talk. What do you want.”

Sanchez didn’t answer at first, but held the detective’s gaze intensely. It seemed like an eternity as Justin stood frozen by the door just taking in the scene in front of him. Sanchez finally snapped, to what seemed like Emmanuel’s pleasure, and pulled the detective aggressively closer to his chest. Justin was about to step in, letting his fingers hover at the handle of his gun where it lingered until the situation proved different from what Justin had assumed. They caught each other’s lips fiercely, and Emmanuel tore at Sanchez belt, removing it easily. He performed the movements as if they were routine, his body familiar with the act. 

Justin moved away from the door instantly, catching a gasp before it escaped from his lips. He backed away slowly until he was far enough that he could leave without being heard.

The elevator descended slowly compared to the rapid beating of Justin’s heart against his chest. On some level he felt betrayed although there had never been anything exclusive between them. If anything, Justin had been the one barging in and expecting more than he could justifiably be given. He’d ignored the humanity he knew existed in the detective and now he was surprised to find that Emmanuel was a person pre his relation to Justin. He knew he had no right to use their circumstances as a playground, yet he was now the one feeling like a toy. He became more and more wrapped up in his toxic thoughts, letting them devour him. He paced hurriedly down the halls, not really sure where he was going but refusing to stop until suddenly he had the wind knocked out of him. He landed on his back, with a weight on top of him. It took a few seconds before he realized that the weight was in fact another person. 

“God Justin, I’m so sorry.” Andrea said, quickly getting off of him. “I was heading out. I didn’t see you.”

“Don’t apologize,” Justin answered. “I probably knocked you over, and not the other way around.”

Somehow - weirdly enough - he had been pulled back to normalcy, and quickly forgotten the frustration being harbored by his mind just moments before. He even let a smile make its way onto his face, before he helped Andrea back onto her feet. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice soft and hypnotizing, as he looked at her with concerned eyes.

“I think so,” she answered, with a chuckle.

For as long as Justin had known her, he knew that she would do anything if he asked for it. And it seemed like the perfect time to take advantage of that fact.

“Do you want to go back to your place?” He asked, already knowing the answer he’d receive.

“I’d love to.” She answered, and for once his focus was exclusively on her.

He didn’t spare much time for kissing her, and when he did, it was mostly just formality. She continued reaching up for him, but he kept her at a length where he could still thrust into her without too much effort. She didn’t complain, but Justin knew that he was detached mentally. It seemed however that she was mostly ignoring that, if she wasn’t completely unaware of it. When he was about to climax, he focused his attention on her and thrust harder, until he managed to finish. He pulled out, and slumped down on the sheets beside her.

“I have to go.” He said, feeling slightly sorry.

“You can sleep over if you want.” She said, smiling. “We can go for another round.”

She reached down, running her hand up his thigh, but Justin grabbed her wrist and pushed it away before getting up. 

“Justin-”

He buckled his belt, and left his shirt unbuttoned, obviously eager to get out of the apartment. Before she could say another word, he was already out of the door. 

***

It was a new day, a new dawn so to speak. The chief was giving a standard speech to the department, and Justin was barely listening. He hadn’t slept particularly well, but then again, he only had himself to blame. He was sitting in the back of the conference room, rocking back and forth in his chair. Emmanuel was standing on the side, leaning against the wall, and of course he seemed more satisfied with himself than Justin was willing to admit. He didn’t see Sanchez anywhere, but he supposed that he’d gone back to Washington. If that was the case then Sanchez had only stayed long enough to take what he wanted and then leave. Perhaps they weren’t so different after all. Which reminded him that he’d probably have to apologize to Andrea. When the chief was done speaking, Justin barely caught up to Andrea when her and some other technicians left the conference room. When he managed to get a hold of her attention, they waited for the hall to empty, while she stood with her arms crossed, looking understandably pissed.

“Are you okay?” Justin asked, awkwardly.

Her eyes widened slightly, with a scoff. And for a brief moment, Justin considered ducking for cover. 

“Are you kidding me?” She hissed, clenching her fist around the mug in her hand. “I was okay with being a one night stand, but then you humiliated me and left without a word.”

“Look, I’m sorry. It was an honest mistake.”

This didn’t seem to please her in the least bit, and Justin could feel himself getting drenched in coffee, even before she’d emptied her mug all over his white shirt. And of course she did. Justin would have most likely stayed quiet, even if he wasn’t absolutely stunned into silence. She turned on her heel, and walked off, her stilettos like rough bolts on the floor. 

“Great…” Justin frowned, before looking down at the coffee dripping from his shirt.

He was about to head for his desk, but around the corner, like an innocent coincidence, appeared the detective. 

“Nice one.” Emmanuel said, with a teasing smirk. “Should I have taken notes?”

“Shut up.” Justin answered, walking right past him. “It’s none of your business.”

Emmanuel followed him, most likely to be a pain in the ass. Once they’d reached his desk, Justin turned around sharply.

“Are you doing this to spite me?” He asked, taking advantage of his height, to assert superiority.

“While that does sound quite amusing, we’re supposed to be heading for the brothel.” Emmanuel answered.

Justin sighed, slightly frustrated with himself for forgetting, but persisted in blaming the detective instead. 

“Go wait downstairs,” He ordered. 

Emmanuel however didn’t obey, and Justin grabbed the collar of his shirt in response. To his annoyance, Emmanuel didn’t flinch, nor change his neutral expression.

“You know what, I’m not getting into a car with you,” Justin said. “Go directly to the Brothel and I’ll meet you there… once I’ve changed my shirt.”

Emmanuel sensed Justin’s irritation, deciding to do what was asked of him, before he’d be walking out of there with a coffee stained shirt of his own.

***

He went through the back door, having learned from the last time he’d been at the brothel that he’d probably be undressed if he waited too long at the main entrance. He came across Lynn’s room first, remembering her only from the fact that she was pregnant and that she had a young girl. The door was slightly ajar, and somehow he could tell that something was amiss. 

Hearing the faint sound of flesh being torn and devoured, Emmanuel stepped closer making sure to remain in the shielding shadows. He caught a glimpse through the crack of the slightly open door, carefully approaching as the sharp smell of carnage grew stronger. He instantly recognized the figure feasting on a chunk of meat. Lynn. Hunched over in the darkened room, with the baby bump secure under her chest. His mind instantly shifted to the obvious. She couldn’t have been alone. He sped up slightly, scoping out the room as quietly as possible. Crib empty, suggesting that her meal might not have been of her own flesh. But when the growling quieted down momentarily, there was an unmistakable presence, sniffling somewhere. He followed the sobs, cautiously stepping around the feasting figure. His gaze landed on the wooden closet, and he slowly opened it. Inside was the startled child he’d suspected devoured, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, and fragile body curled up in the corner. Before he could consider his options, the figure rose behind him, and he instantly stepped into the closet, slamming it shut. He knew it was only a matter of time before Lynn would have found them but there was no going back. Sliding down the frame of the closet, he cradled the child protectively, holding her head to his heart, beating steadily. She stopped crying at the sound of the calm rhythm, slipping into the delusion of safety. He focused now only on his pulse, and the warmth of her tears settling on his shirt. Even as the figure crept closer on the other side of the wooden surface he sat completely still, holding his gun tightly in his grip. It seemed unreal when all noise stopped just for a second, until the closet shook violently, at every collision from the outside with the surface. It would be mere seconds before the entire thing came crashing down, and Emmanuel knew he’d have to think fast. So he did the only thing that crossed his mind. He lifted the child’s face and looked into her immense glossy eyes, hoping to get her attention. 

“Stay here,” He ordered.

He didn’t wait for a sign of confirmation, but instantly dove out, shutting the closet behind him, and blocking the entrance with his body. He reached for his gun, unsuccessfully as he realized its absence. There was a brief moment of utter oblivion. He dared open his eyes, meeting hers that were fixed to look directly ahead. They were inhuman, blank and simply unlike anything he’d managed to imagine his own eyes to appear when he’d been in her state. He had no time to study further. Her actions hadn’t stopped, and she was equally eager to get into the closet as she had been before. She seemed to disregard him completely, as if he did not exist. Considering the strength at which she pushed ahead and energy she carried in her movements, it seemed likely that even as Emmanuel struggled to hold her back, they would eventually crash through the closet door. There was no time nor opportunity for him to search for his gun, and he concluded that he was out of options. He heard the creaking sound of wood splintering against his back, wondering how many seconds he’d have left before it all came crashing down. But it didn’t. There was a sharp sound, dominating the air, and quick to cause his face to cover in blood that was not his. He wiped it off in his sleeve, suddenly free to move wherever he pleased as the obstacle had been removed. He caught Justin standing in the doorframe, gun raised, trying to keep his composure intact. Emmanuel quickly remembered why he was guarding the closet in the first place, opening the closet door carefully, revealing the curled up little girl inside. A flood of relief washed over Justin’s face, and he sighed shakily, as Emmanuel picked her up.

“She’s okay,” Emmanuel said.


	5. Avvie

It wasn’t long before crisis personnel showed up, Shinzo there among them to recover the body, and examine the scene. Justin sat on the steps to the room, visibly shaken up, and Emmanuel wasn’t exactly sure of what to do. He thought it best to leave Justin alone with his coping, even if it seemed reasonable to interfere in case Justin was more unstable than he appeared. Emmanuel had other things that required his attention though, and he soon prioritized the girl on his hip. Before he could contemplate where to put her down, a woman he’d seen before at the station was quick to take her off his hands, and although Emmanuel was strangely wary at that moment, he didn’t resist. With his hands free, and no child craving his attention, he went to Justin careful not to step in any of the blood that was pooling on the floor.

“There was a minor in danger,” Emmanuel said, squatting down beside him. “You did what you had to.”

Justin seemed to take no comfort in those words, not bothering to even look at Emmanuel. 

“This is my fault,” He mumbled. “If I hadn’t messed up with Andrea she wouldn’t have soaked me with that coffee and I wouldn’t have had to change my shirt, sending you here alone.”

Emmanuel scoffed at Justin’s logic, finding it to be irrelevant what circumstances on Justin’s behalf would have led up to the outcome when the only person to blame for the attack was the attacker himself.

“I should have been there,” Justin sighed. “I could have…”

Even Justin seemed to understand that it was useless to speculate when events had already taken place and were irreversible. He shook his head slightly, giving up on his argument.

“You saw what happened right? She didn’t attack me. I was merely holding her back from attacking the kid. Which means that she either prioritized the kid over me, or that I wasn’t a priority at all.” Emmanuel theorized. “What if it had something to do with the fact that I was injected?”

Justin was barely paying attention, and Emmanuel wondered if he had ever seen Justin so subtly disturbed. He was simply not there mentally.

“Shinzo or Xavier will have more use of that information…” Justin answered distantly.

They both turned their head at the sound of commotion taking place at the other end of the hall, Emmanuel knew that Justin was less than capable of handling the situation in the state he was in, but unable to stop him before he was headed straight for confrontation.

“What’s going on?” Justin asked, Emmanuel right behind him. 

An officer was holding back two of the prostitutes, and Emmanuel had some trouble remembering their names at first. Shasta was trying to push through, with Luci standing back, with a worried expression casting a shadow across her face.

“You better have a good explanation for this lieutenant,” Shasta said. “Where’s Lynn?”

Justin’s face twisted a bit at the mention of her name, otherwise remaining relatively composed. 

“There’s been… an incident.” He answered, in lack of better wording.

Both Shasta and Luci seemed confused, and even frustrated with the vagueness of the information that Justin had given them.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Shasta snarled, approaching him.

“She’s dead,” Justin admitted, and nearly failed to catch his voice from breaking.

It was obvious however, that he was distraught. Shasta, perhaps sensing that, placed a gentle hand on his cheek, pulling him into an embrace, providing comfort. Something that Emmanuel couldn’t do.

***

_ 2001 _

_ Sanchez dragged Emmanuel to the car, supporting his weight as he was clearly under the influence of alcohol. As soon as they were both inside, Emmanuel burst out laughing. _

_ “You just shut down the entire party,” He said, slurring through his words. “Because you’re mad that I went out without your permission.” _

_ Sanchez didn’t say anything, fuming with anger as he clenched his fists around the wheel. _

_ “Fine,” Emmanuel said, rolling his eyes. “Give me the silent treatment.” _

_ “You’re messing with the wrong crowd, drinking, disrespecting me, and for what?” Sanchez snapped. “This is unlike you Emmanuel. You’re almost eighteen. What’s going on?” _

_ It was quiet for a moment, sobering almost. The smile had disappeared from Emmanuel’s lips.  _

_ “She’s pregnant.” He said quietly. _

_ Sanchez sighed.  _

_ “She told you?” _

_ “You guys are terrible liars…” Emmanuel scoffed, looking down at his shoes. “I know there’s no room for me as it is. I’m just doing my thing until you kick me out, and I’ll be alone again.” _

_ “Who says we’re going to kick you out? You’re family. You’ll always have me.” _

_ It was completely silent, except for the light buzz of the engine, and the distant traffic. They looked at each other for a brief second before Emmanuel took initiative and leaned forward. Sanchez didn’t stop him, letting Emmanuel tease him with a shallow kiss, before deepening it. He tasted the burning liquor on his lips and tongue, clouding his judgement just slightly.  _

_ “Do I still have you?” Emmanuel asked, his voice low and hypnotic. _

_ There was no answer, and there wouldn’t be for another few years. Painful long years for the both of them. _

***

It felt like hours he’d been standing on that edge, despite the obvious fact that it hadn’t been more than a few minutes. Lynn had given birth before Emmanuel had gotten there. Shinzo had told them after the autopsy that the contents of her stomach revealed the flesh of her infant. The other child was safe but now an orphan, because Justin had killed her mother. The magnitude of the situation was festering in his conscience, weighing him down. The building was somewhere between 20 and 30 stories, high enough for certain death. The cloud of pollution was hanging low, making it impossible for him to see beyond it. Behind the edge was soot filled air, hiding the ground beneath, like a charcoal veil. Diving into it would be saying goodbye. Goodbye to sleepless nights, discouraging failures, restless loneliness, taunting frustration, agonizing contempt, tormenting distress and excruciating losses. Yet at the same time; goodbye to warmth and kindness, sweet moments and memories, purpose and the feeling of butterflies. Somehow things seemed to have shifted for the worse, and that worsening was unbearable. 

The anger was the worst part. Always burning so painfully, and like a heavy weight in his chest. It consumed everything, made even the happiest moments seem worthless and like a burden. And it kept building up, forming like a knot in his throat, impossible to get rid off. At some point there would be nothing of him left, while the hatred and anger would grow, he would get smaller causing parts of him to disappear, as he would discard of anything but that anger. Helplessly digging his nails into his palms, trying to relieve some of it, yet knowing that it was of no use. He just needed it to stop. He needed everything to stop.

He stepped forward, one foot over the edge hovering in the air, and another still solidly planted on the roof as his only tie to life. And he was about to cut it. Leaning forward, arms outstretched, letting gravity play its part, when he heard the click of the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He sighed, not bothering to turn around.

“I saw you heading up here,” Emmanuel answered, casually stepping forwards. “We’ve got work to do.”

Justin didn’t bother answering. He was caught in a difficult situation, unable to step away from the brink, but also incapable of crossing it. Emmanuel sighed, knowing Justin needed someone to tip the scales. He went up next to him, stepping over the edge with one shoe, tryingly. 

“Jump,” Emmanuel said. “I’ll jump with you.”

Justin scoffed, amused at Emmanuel’s logic. For his method to work it required Justin caring whether Emmanuel jumped or not. 

And he did care.

His expression seemed to suggest this, and Emmanuel stepped down.

“If I don’t get to die, you don’t either,” Emmanuel said. “When I’d been injected there was something… words I suppose. I didn’t say them but maybe I should. ‘I don’t want to die’ is what I thought. And I don’t think you do either. I think you’re struggling with life, but that doesn’t mean you want to die.”

Justin didn’t answer, simply taking it all in, considering Emmanuel’s words. There was no doubt however. Of course he was right. Justin didn’t want to die. Not like that at least.

“I’ll check up on the girl.” Emmanuel said.

He left knowing that Justin would leave too when he was ready.

***

Emmanuel entered the room, approaching the girl and the woman he’d left her with. It was too early to interrogate her, seeing as she may still be in shock, considering the circumstances. However to Emmanuel’s surprise, she seemed completely indifferent. She’d been crying when he’d found her, but now it was as if she’d woken up to find the world as benign as usual. 

“Look after her while I go handle some things,” The woman said, leaving once she’d gotten a nod from Emmanuel.

The girl didn’t seem to pay any mind to the situation, perhaps having not been paying attention. Emmanuel sat down in front of her, gaining temporary eye contact.

“Your name is Avvie?” He asked, wondering if he’d remembered correctly. 

She didn’t answer, appearing to be distracted by absolutely nothing. Emmanuel knew that he wasn’t good with children, but this one seemed particularly difficult to deal with. Even Justin was easier to handle, despite his pitiable mental state. He wasn’t sure of what to do, since he’d never expected to be in that situation to begin with. There was indeed someone who’d know what to do, but like hell was he about to ask Sanchez for advice. It was a complicated issue to say the least.

“What am I gonna do…” He sighed, getting wrapped up in his own thoughts.

He felt her hand on his head, ruffling his hair. A sentiment he found to be stupidly endearing, something that he hadn’t expected. He smiled unconsciously, and even more so when she did as well. Perhaps it was the success of that small gesture that made him want to make another attempt at confirming her name, but he never got that far. The sounds of chaos he’d come to know so well, suddenly echoed throughout the building and Emmanuel knew exactly what that meant. She seemed to know as well. Just by casting one glance at her, Emmanuel could tell that she was frightened, and that created a dilemma he was even less prepared for. As the screams outside grew louder, he became more torn, something very unlike him. There was no one to dictate his moves, and no one to instruct him on the moral implications. He figured that it would be expected of him to act, however he did need to keep an eye on the child. 

“I need to go,” He finally said, having decided. “I need you to stay here, and lock the door behind me when I leave.”

He gave the instructions, not sure if she would be able to follow them. There was no time to linger any further though, and Emmanuel was on the other side within seconds. He heard the lock click behind him, and that was all he needed.

***

There weren’t many of them, yet still somehow that seemed to be too many. Emmanuel knew it would be difficult - if not impossible - for the people in the building to handle the issue accordingly. In the end, no one willingly puts down someone from their own team. He didn’t see the lieutenant anywhere, or Morgan for that matter, however he had an odd feeling they’d be more capable than the rest of the force. He shrugged off the curiosity of their whereabouts and decided to get started. He threw back his head, blocking all his senses save for his hearing, listening for the sound of snarls and growls. And he quickly found what he was listening for, as if summoned. He followed the sounds, fast through the air but soundless compared to the chaos filling the building. He shifted his pace warily, just as he neared the sound of his target. And the promise of a fight was granted, when he spotted a uniformed male who’d undoubtedly been injected, about to feast. He’d be practically invisible, and he was intending to use that as an advantage. The situation was unfolding close to the main hall, and he knew he’d have to act fast, whatever the consequences. He reached for his gun, pulling it from its holster in a swift movement, and aiming it at the figure’s head. It was a sharp sound that he was used to, but that the person about to become a meal most certainly hadn’t expected. The body fell hard and the contents of his head had sprayed onto the person below him, in effect to the gunshot. Emmanuel helped shove the body off of the helpless woman below, then moved on to the main hall. He barely got to it before people were flooding the exits in panic, indicating that something was going down in the direction he was headed. He made his way through the herd, trying to assess the situation on the other side. What a sight. Bodies on the floor being devoured, some of them still alive. Indeed alive, but barely as flesh was gnawed off in lethal amounts, bones exposed. The floor wasn’t marble anymore. He’d have to get dirty, just like the scene playing out in front of him. With the gun in his hand, he surged forward, working execution style. Blood and gore soaked his shoes, till the sole became spongy and the insides were flooding. He continued until the sounds of bullets being fired were replaced with clicks that only meant one thing.

“Shit,” Emmanuel mumbled.

He threw his gun aside, and grabbed his knife instead. The shaft lay comfortably in his grip before long. He plunged the dagger into every target, easily, and decisively, savoring the sensation of how effortlessly it tore through skin and flesh. Blood spattered onto him from severed arteries, drenching him completely. Even his hair was dripping with blood of all types, running down and across his already bloodied face. Somehow the lack of resistance was rather uninteresting, and more of a nuisance. He almost stabbed Justin when he happened to step into Emmanuel’s range. 

“Watch out!” He hissed, diverting the blade towards an injected staffer, clearly headed for Justin, stabbing her instead.

Justin shot her in the head, just to be sure, then turned to Emmanuel.

“How many?”

“I counted 14,” Emmanuel answered.

Justin nodded slightly, scanning the room with a mournful look in his eyes. Emmanuel felt a sense of relief seeing Justin unharmed, though he’d expected as much even when he’d left him on that roof. Justin for his part looked absolutely disturbed, reacting to the scene in front of him, and Emmanuel being drenched in blood. As if on cue, medical personnel stormed in. The air was still filled with screams from the wounded, and Emmanuel and Justin decided to give them some space. They rushed down the hall, quickly running into Morgan and Perry at the elevators.

“The chief?” Morgan asked, and Justin nodded in response. 

She quickly noticed Emmanuel’s state, leaving bloody shoe prints and trails of blood dripping from his entirety. Perry too was caught by surprise and both Emmanuel and Justin thought it best that he hadn’t witnessed what’d caused the bloodshed. Especially Justin - recollecting the way Perry had been bent over as he vomited at the sight of a single corpse - was relieved that Emmanuel had been the one to handle the situation.

When they arrived at Merkel’s office, no one was there.

“I don’t see anyone,” Morgan said. “You don’t think-”

Merkel burst through the doors of the other end of the floor. 

“It’s in the water,” She warned , as Perry regained some composure. “We don’t know if it’s just the station, or the entire city’s water supply.”

She went into her office, and the others thought it best to stay outside. Soon her message rang through the speakers.

“Stay away from the water.”

She repeated the message a couple of times before rejoining them.

“We don’t know if this was just a decoy,” She said. “We would’ve heard something by now if the entire city had been affected. He might be attempting to compromise us, before moving to the main water supply. We can’t afford another outbreak.”

“What do you want us to do?” Justin asked, waiting for her to give the orders.

“Go to the city’s water supply, and guard it,” She answered. “With some luck you’ll catch him there.”

Emmanuel, Justin and Morgan instantly headed for the elevator, and Perry turned to the chief with pleading eyes. She sighed, gesturing for him to follow the others, and he caught the elevator doors right before they closed. Morgan and Justin exchanged an irritated glance, and Emmanuel merely sighed.

***

The water supply was an underground network of halls, and running water. Even knowing the labyrinthic structure, it would be difficult for anyone not to get lost, or at least disoriented. 

“Maybe we should split up,” Morgan suggested. “We’ll be more effective that way.”

“We’re not splitting up,” Justin answered dismissively, thinking about the last time he’d given that idea a go.

“Lieutenant Brooks is right,” Emmanuel said. “There’s no reason for us to continue as a group of more than two.”

Justin was about to object, but Morgan was quick to shut him down.

“Stop acting like a damn child, and let’s get to it,” She ordered. “I’ll take Perry, you’ll take Washington.”

“I’d feel better if you went with a fucking donkey,” Justin said, slightly amused at how Perry looked noticeably offended.

“Don’t question my authority,” She exclaimed. “Just go already.”

He reluctantly did as he was told, Emmanuel already ahead of him. They continued down rust filled tunnels, following the sound of water flowing.

“Focus,” Emmanuel said.

“I am focused,” Justin answered, visibly annoyed to be confronted. 

“I can tell you’re not,” Emmanuel scoffed, and Justin was about to push back, when Emmanuel cut him off. “Look.”

They reached the main tunnel where all the filtered water was flowing, like an underground river. At the other end of the hanger bridge was Morgan and Perry. They met at the middle of the bridge, where the railing lowered slightly, overlooking the stream of water.

“We didn’t see anyone,” Morgan said, her voice almost drowned out, by the sound of water bouncing from the sides of the tunnel. 

“He’s not here,” Emmanuel answered. “There’s nothing we can do if the water is already contaminated, but two of us should stay, and the others take another round.”

The others nodded in agreement, and Morgan was about to ask which group should be staying, when the echo of a nearby pipe rang out, causing Perry to draw his weapon. He instinctively jumped backwards, bumping into Emmanuel who in turn bumped into Justin like a domino-effect, sending both of them over the railing. Justin gasped, as the impact knocked the air out of him, quickly filling his lungs with water that surrounded him from all sides, soaking him completely. The current swept both of them away, disorienting them, making it impossible to know where the surface was. Justin was about to lose consciousness, unsure of whether he had been infected, or if he was really drowning. Black spots started clouding his vision, and his limbs became unbearably heavy. He felt a hand on his collar, pulling him above the water, and let Emmanuel drag him towards a ladder. They made it to a metal ledge, and Justin instantly collapsed, coughing up the water that blocked his airway. Emmanuel waited for him to stabilize, as he scanned the area for an exit. 

“Please tell me you were at least trying not to drown,” Emmanuel scoffed.

Justin really had no interest in the detective’s snarky attitude, but thought he’d at least humor him.

“Like hell am I gonna let Perry take me down that easily.”

***

All four of them arrived back at the main hall, surprised to find that the scene hadn’t changed much. Shinzo was in over his head, something fairly obvious considering the piles of bodies he had been tasked with overseeing. In addition to the bodies having been recovered from the warehouse, it seemed an incomprehensible assignment. However the bodies at the warehouse were those of strangers. These bodies were those of coworkers. Merkel was giving out orders, turning her attention to the four of them when she realized they’d returned.

“The main water supply is secure,” Justin said. “No one was there and the water isn’t contaminated.”

“Good, I’ve got people headed there to guard the area,” Merkel answered.

She was about to turn back, however instantly distracted when she realized Justin and Emmanuel were drenched, Emmanuel no longer in blood but water.

“What in the world…” She mumbled, giving them a confused expression to accompany her bewildered tone.

“That’s how we found out the water wasn’t infected,” Justin sighed. “You can thank pipsqueak over here.”

He gestured at Perry who in turn gave the chief an apologetic look, to which she merely scoffed. Whatever harm had been done seemed irrelevant compared to the obstacles she’d be dealing with in the aftermath of the attack. 

“We’re having a meeting in the conference room in about an hour,” Merkel added. “Be there.”

They all nodded, and the chief got back to work, leaving them to stand there in silence. The main hall was filled with the stench of gore, and Perry looked as if he was about to throw up. He went straight for the restroom, and they all looked on with exhaustion in their expression. 

“I’m gonna go make sure he’s okay…” Morgan sighed.

As soon as she was gone, Emmanuel remembered something.

“Oh shit,” He muttered.

***

Emmanuel grabbed the handle of the door, pulling at it without luck, remembering how he’d told Avvie to lock it. Justin caught up to him, understandably worried about Emmanuel’s sudden erratic behavior.

“What the hell are you doing?” He sighed, raising an eyebrow as Emmanuel continued yanking the door handle.

Emmanuel turned to him briefly, about to sound off on the fact that now wasn’t the right time to question him, but the faint click of the lock silenced them both. Emmanuel carefully opened the door, heaving a sigh of relief as he saw Avvie unharmed, looking at the both of them with oblivious eyes.

“Oh thank god,” Emmanuel said, picking her up. “I’d almost forgotten I’d left you here.”

“Wait,” Justin interrupted. “You forgot about the kid?!”

Emmanuel appeared uninterested in Justin’s judgements.

“It’s not like you didn’t,” He argued. “It doesn’t matter. She’s okay.”

It wasn’t that simple however. There was still a very big question hovering in the air.

“So what do we do with her?” Justin asked, knowing Emmanuel wouldn’t be able to answer that question either.

“Shouldn’t we get her some crisis counseling? She hasn’t talked since…” Emmanuel paused in his sentence, realizing that he’d never heard her speak.

“Selective mutism,” Justin said. “Lynn once told me that Avvie would sometimes talk to her, but she doesn’t speak in the presence of anyone else. Don’t worry, she’s always been that way.”

Emmanuel nodded, moving on to his next suggestion.

“Should we question her?” He asked. “I mean she must have seen what happened, right?”

It was still early but Emmanuel saw some benefit to that. After all, memories fade with time, so the sooner they obtained the information the better. Justin was slightly uncomfortable with the fact that they were discussing Avvie in front of her, as if she was deaf, or simply not present. She didn’t seem very interested though, fiddling with Emmanuel’s wet clothes.

“If she’s not going to talk, it won’t be of much use.” Justin said, increasingly bothered by Emmanuel’s carelessness. “You’re getting her wet.”

Emmanuel, realizing that he indeed was, put Avvie down. She instead clung to his leg, which didn’t help much. 

“You’ve got dry clothes upstairs,” Justin said. “Why don’t you go change.”

“What about her?” Emmanuel asked, gesturing at the wet spots on her dress. “What if she catches a cold? We’ve got an hour before the meeting, I could go get some of her clothes.”

“Back at the whorehouse? No, better not to mess up the crime scene.” Justin argued. “Just give her some of your clothes and it should be fine.”

Avvie was still clinging to his leg, getting her dress even more wet. Emmanuel unsure of what to do, decided to pick her back up anyway.

“My clothes won’t fit her.” He said.

“They’ll be too big, but that shouldn’t be a problem.” Justin shrugged.

Emmanuel nodded, and they went upstairs.

Emmanuel picked a light blue shirt, something he thought appropriate for Avvie to wear. She hovered at his side impatiently, shivering slightly, and Justin gestured for Emmanuel to hurry it up.

“What do you want me to do?” Emmanuel asked, unsure of how to proceed.

“Just take off her wet clothes, and put her in the dry ones,” Justin answered.

Perhaps he didn’t realize what exactly he was asking Emmanuel to do, but neither of them had been in such a situation before.

“I’m not her dad,” Emmanuel said. “I can’t just take off her clothes.”

“She’s a kid,” Justin shrugged.

“That’s the point,” Emmanuel argued. “If it’s not that big of a deal then why don’t you do it yourself?”

Justin wasn’t fond of that suggestion. It was clear that neither of them were comfortable doing it. He was about to suggest that she could probably do it herself, when someone appeared in the doorframe.

“What are you arguing about?” Merkel interrupted, immediately catching sight of the small girl in the wet dress.

“You’re a woman so it should be fine right?” Justin mentioned, figuring he’d have to elaborate. “You can help her change.”

Merkel crossed her arms, contemplating the situation, then nodding. Emmanuel handed her the shirt, and she and Avvie left to go change.

“Crisis averted,” Justin mumbled.

Emmanuel didn’t respond, unbuttoning his shirt, in order to change into some dry clothes himself. He paused in his movements when it seemed Justin wasn’t taking the hint.

“Do you mind?” He asked, catching Justin’s attention from where it was focused on Emmanuel’s chest.

“Uh, right,” Justin answered, leaving Emmanuel to change.

***

The chief was sitting at the head of the table, gathered with the rest of the department in the conference room. Justin knew that her leadership would suffer a considerable amount of scrutiny, her authority be called into question, and her position already weakened. Even a motivational speech wouldn’t act as more than a mere bandaid. Nevertheless she cleared her throat, though the silence indicated that the attention was already on her.

“It’s no secret we’ve suffered a setback,” She began. “We’ve lost friends, and colleagues. It’s going to take time for us to recover, but I know we’ll get there. This blatant attack on our institution will not be taken lightly. Bioterrorism, as this clearly is, cannot be tolerated. We are getting enforcement from surrounding cities, and financial support as well. Some bodies will be transported to mortuaries and research facilities on the outside, and those who stay for autopsies in our own mortuary will be assessed as soon as possible.”

“What about the kid?” Emmanuel interjected, the kid in question sitting on his lap, in the oversized blue shirt.

Even though the question was relevant, it seemed out of place. The situation was indeed unusual, and Emmanuel seemed to be perhaps not the one most qualified to advocate.

“Right, I suppose she can’t stay here.” Merkel answered, less than enthused to have more problems to deal with. “By the laws of this city; orphans may be dealt with on the outside. She seems to meet that standard.”

“I hate to interrupt, but as it is I’m swamped with dead bodies. Even with some of them being transferred to the outside, the majority will stay, which leaves me in a race against the clock of the human body, meaning bodies are decaying faster than I can get to them. I’m going to need assistance.” Shinzo added, stressing that the issue could not wait.

“One problem at a time,” The chief hissed, taking a moment to gather her thoughts as she regained some composure. “What if we do it like this; detective Macron will return to Washington in order to recruit another forensic pathologist, and register the kid for adoption or what else seems fitting.”

There was nodding and slight sounds of approval around the table. The solution wasn’t perfect - far from it - but it would suffice.

“Very well,” Merkel said. “Lieutenant Trudeau, you will accompany detective Macron.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for Dr. Abe to go in my place?” Justin protested, on some level uncomfortable with the idea of rejoining a functioning society. “Won’t he be more qualified to pick another forensic pathologist?”

“If I leave then who will perform the autopsies on the dead bodies while I’m gone?” Shinzo argued, pointing out his obvious irreplaceability. 

“Exactly,” Merkel agreed. “We will go on as before this attack, resuming our usual responsibilities. That concludes this meeting.”

They all filed out, relatively quick, leaving Justin and Shinzo in the conference room. Emmanuel left with Avvie, presumably to find her something to eat.

“I need you to monitor him,” Shinzo said, knowing Justin would recognize who he was referring to.

“Why? Nothing’s happened so far, and I haven’t been monitoring him.” Justin answered.

“No, I’ve been doing that. But since I won’t be going, I need you to act in my stead.” Shinzo said, giving Justin more responsibility than he’d asked for.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Justin asked, trying to make his role seem obsolete.

“Stay close, and don’t leave his side for too long,” Shinzo answered, and the task appeared straight forward. “He’s got an apartment as far as I know, and I’ll make sure he welcomes you with open arms, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“We may not know much about the drug, but is this really necessary? He seems fine so why are we worried about relapse or delayed reactions? Isn’t it supposed to be out of his system by now?” Justin asked, making it obvious that he was less than eager to be that close to Emmanuel.

“Just do as I say lieutenant,” Shinzo sighed. “The last thing we want is for him to pose a danger to himself or others, especially when we’ve managed to keep him alive this far. I’ll need you to perform physical check-ups as well. The damage done to his body is extensive, however he should be recovering properly. He doesn’t want to wear a sling for his dislocated shoulder, which is problematic, so make sure he doesn’t overexert his arm. He won’t take painkillers, or antibiotics, for reasons unclear to me. Other than that you’re all set. Don’t screw it up.”

***

_ 2006 _

_ “So,” Sanchez said. “You’re finally moving out.” _

_ Emmanuel chuckled slightly, taking a glance around his new apartment.  _

_ “I’m 22. It was about time.” He answered. “She’s happy to have me gone I’d imagine.”  _

_ “No wonder the two of you couldn’t stand one another. You’re both content on despising each other.” Sanchez scoffed, running his fingers along the bookshelves. “At least I don’t have to deal with that now.” _

_ Emmanuel nodded, pulling up a bottle of vodka from his bag. He held it up in front of Sanchez, luring him in. _

_ “Care for a drink?” _

_ Sanchez stepped closer, taking the bottle. He took off the cap, drinking confidently, and more than his better judgment would normally allow him. He handed Emmanuel the bottle, and watched as he took long careless swigs. When he put the bottle on the counter, his hands free, Sanchez surged forward into his arms, and Emmanuel accepted him happily.  _

_ “Fuck me the way you should have done in that car.” _

  
  



	6. My name on your lips

Emmanuel unlocked the door, letting he, Avvie and Justin inside.

“Sorry for intruding.” Justin said, taking a look at the apartment.

It was relatively empty except for the necessary furniture like a bed, and clear surfaces. 

“This wasn’t my first choice either you know,” Justin mumbled, looking around in fascination.

The apartment, although smaller than Justin’s, seemed more spacious. Perhaps due to the fact that Justin didn’t care to clean nor keep things in order. Emmanuel however, didn’t appear to have anything of sentimental value, and kept everything in perfectionistic order. It was like something out of a magazine, uninhabited and mostly just for show. It made him oddly uncomfortable. 

Avvie didn’t seem impressed either. She impatiently tugged at Emmanuel’s pant leg.

“I’ll take her to parental services and get her registered.” Emmanuel said, taking her hand. “Unpack whatever stuff you brought.” 

When they were out of the door, Justin took his bag and put it on the couch. He wasn’t quite sure what to do from there, but decided to explore what little space the apartment contained. If he was lucky, he’d be sure to find something that could answer some of his questions. He started in the kitchen/living-room, checking the fridge deluding himself into thinking that maybe he’d find himself in a Jeffrey Dahmer situation. The contents however, were benign. It seemed obvious that Emmanuel would’ve emptied the fridge of anything that would potentially expire, since finding out he’d be transferred temporarily. Bottled water was all that had been allowed to stay. 

He moved on to the drawers and cupboards where he was met with regular utensils, and supplies. There was no Tv, but the entire left wall was decorated by a bookshelf with hundreds of books. Justin skimmed through some of the titles. Some genres persisted. Psychology, toxicology, forensic pathology, criminology, microbiology, and philosophy and biographies. Plato, Kant, Kierkegaard, Aquinas, Locke, Hume, Socrates, Hobbes, Nietzsche, Solzhenitsyn and Aristotle. What a joke he thought to himself. For all he knew the books had never been touched let alone read. 

He switched his focus to the jointed bedroom, visible due to the lack of wall. It appeared just as plain. A made bed, and a nightstand, accompanied by a dresser under the window. He let the bed be, and instead looked through the dresser. The top drawers were exclusively clothes, but then it suddenly got interesting. Piles of paper, mostly work related reports and files. And then loose papers that seemed completely out of place. They were filled with words and in some cases whole sentences, that were repeated. The same things were scribbled over and over but didn’t have any particular meaning. 

“The lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” 

A quote he had undoubtedly seen before. Psalm 23. It had been written not only on loose papers, but in the detective’s notes, randomly wherever there was space. But here it was, hundreds of pages with the same thing scribbled everywhere. Even on top of other writings and occasionally in the same track as the sentence before. Justin shivered slightly in disgust, shoving the papers back into the drawer. He decided to open the next one, despite having just regretted the one before. 

The one beneath it seemed more harmless. Electronics, notably an instax camera and a photo album under it. He attempted to open it, however quickly noticed that the album was carrying a lock. Nothing Justin wouldn’t be able to tear off, but the purpose of the lock was most likely to show signs of intrusion. If he proceeded to open it, Emmanuel would know he’d done so. He put it back, and moved on.

Another drawer was lined with cloth, possibly to conserve the contents; bottles of alcohol. Each bottle with a different amount of liquid, suggesting that they had been opened before. He read the labels. Vodka, whiskey, gin, scotch, brandy, cognac, bourbon, and more vodka. Justin remembered the time in the mortuary, when Emmanuel had brought a bottle of whiskey, and drank directly from the bottle. Justin wondered if he’d done the same with these. He removed the cap on one of them, taking in the strong scent of spirit. He took a swig, then put it back. 

In the bathroom was a small window, covered by bright blinds. Above the sink was a cupboard filled with different toiletries. Toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor with additional blades, etc. The top row was bottles of pills, and Justin immediately began going through them. Melatonin, SSRI’s, Zoloft, and regular xanax. He was about to shut the closet, when plastic wrappers caught his eye. Condoms. Unsurprising.

He checked his watch and decided to get going.

***

_ Emmanuel opened his eyes, almost reluctantly until he realized that he was alone. Darkness had already consumed the apartment from the evening he’d unconsciously slept his way into. Sanchez was nowhere to be seen. Emmanuel wasn’t sure what he’d expected, although he was in a state of slight disappointment. He turned over, not entirely prepared for the soreness. When he sat up, his focus soon fell on his wrists. Even in the lack of light, the bruises were prominent enough to stand out. He wasn’t opposed to Sanchez being rough with him, holding him down if necessary, but there was a certain apathy attached to it. Would he have been with his wife this way? Left bruises on her wrists, fucked her unconscious and left her to wake up alone? He ran the tips of his fingers along the marks, and continued to do so until it brought him some comfort. Even if they were deeply disgraceful he’d wear them with pride, and perhaps try to bring some normalcy to them. Because he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last time he’d wake up alone, with bruises as the only testimony to their intimacy. He’d expected his first time to be different, but it had been with the person he trusted the most so there was no reason to complain. It had been with someone who’d always cared for him. Someone safe. Someone who’d never hurt him. _

_ He was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed a warmth spreading against his inner thighs. He looked down at the inky liquid, biting his tongue as he saw the blood. His eyes stung with tears that he convinced himself were solely in response to the external wounds. He hugged his knees tightly to prevent his body from trembling more than it already was, gasping for air that refused to fill his lungs. _

_ How bothersome _

***

Justin checked his phone, stepping into the main hall. He looked around for a few seconds but couldn’t spot Emmanuel or Avvie anywhere. He went up to the front desk, waiting for the receptionist to finish a call. 

“Name?”

“Justin Trudeau.”

“Third floor, office 24. Miss Lagarde will be waiting for you.”

Justin nodded, turning to the staircase, waiting at the steps as he wondered where Emmanuel had taken Avvie. He sighed, checking his phone once again, when he felt something on his forehead. A faint smell of soap filled the air, and bubbles rained down over him, turning rainbow in the sunlight. It really had been a long time since he’d appreciated the light like this. He looked up at the ceiling, and spotted Avvie through the bubbles, behind the railing. Emmanuel was carrying her on his hip, gesturing for Justin to join them.

“If you keep carrying her everywhere, she’ll forget how to walk, and you’re not supposed to be carrying anything heavy.” Justin said. “What were you doing wandering the hallways?”

“We were waiting for you. It’s your name on the form so you’re the one who has to register her.” Emmanuel answered.

“And this?” Justin asked, pointing at the bubbles.

“I’m distracting her,” Emmanuel answered.

“Don’t get attached,” Justin mumbled.

“I don’t get attached.” Emmanuel scoffed, putting her down, and taking her hand instead.

Avvie seemed happy, almost cheerful as they walked down the hall towards the office of the parental counselor. She’d seen the playroom from afar and Justin suspected the facilities to be more suitable for children than anything at the station. He knocked on the door, glancing slightly at the detective, who was reluctant to let go of Avvie’s hand, even as the child gave his hand a comforting squeeze before she ran off to join the other children. 

“Mr. Trudeau? Come in.” A skinny woman with clean cut grey hair said. “And Emmanuel? What a small world.”

She tilted her head towards Emmanuel who was standing back, still keeping an eye on the child. He turned to smile at Lagarde, having already decided her status as an obstacle.

“Indeed,” He said with a fake smile. “I’ll be joining the meeting.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” She answered with a slight scoff.

“It’s not up for discussion.” Emmanuel answered, barely letting her finish, and keeping his friendly smile plastered onto his face for good measure.

She nodded bitterly, gesturing for them to step inside. They sat down at the desk, getting straight to the point. 

“Her relatives?” 

“I’m afraid the only connections we’ve been able to come up with is an uncle who was recently let out on parole. Furthermore we cannot be completely certain that this connection is legitimate. I suggest we turn back to the father. Legally he should receive custody, that is if he has no previous sentence bringing the safety of the child up for discussion.”

“Nothing he’s been caught for yet,” Emmanuel said. “Who else have you got?”

“Adoption,” She answered. “However we will have to consult the father about this.”

“Then that’s out of the question.” 

“We have his identity, so legally we have an obligation-”

“He’s got no say in this matter. Obligation or no obligation, it’s out of the question.”

“I’ll see what I can do… what’s her last name?” She asked, tapping the pen on the pages of her notes.

“The mother likely changed her name when she moved to the City.” Justin said. “We don’t know her last name.”

“Then I think we should set her birth father’s name on the form.”

“You’re not doing that,” Emmanuel said. “Write the uncle’s name for now.”

He continued with the polite posture, but Justin could tell that the air was getting more toxic by the second. It quickly broke however, as a loud thud and the sound of children crying, broke through the thin office walls. Emmanuel was the first one to leap from his seat and throw open the door, Justin followed him with Lagarde right behind them. When they got into the playroom they quickly spotted the cause of the commotion. A blond boy with red eyes and a running nose was weeping at the side of a man in a suit. The man was holding Avvie tightly by her sides and shaking her, as his face continued twisting into a furious expression. He was clearly scolding the child, and Emmanuel wasted no second launching forward with his arm stretched out to catch the man by his throat in his grip. He held him against the wall pushing his thumb into the middle of the man’s throat, causing him to spasm and choke violently. Lagarde ran over and picked up the blond boy, and Justin dragged away Avvie by her hand, then returning to get Emmanuel off of the man. 

“What the hell!?” He yelled, trying to get Emmanuel to let go, but he wouldn’t budge.

As the man seemed to be just about to pass out, coughing and drooling, with his face blue and swelling, Emmanuel finally backed off. He turned on his heel, walking calmly back towards Avvie who was reaching her arms up to him, and he effortlessly picked her up protectively as they headed for the exit. Justin quickly followed, leaving the mess behind without a word.

***

When they arrived back at the apartment after dropping Avvie off at the care facility she’d be staying at, neither of them said anything. Emmanuel was visibly uncomfortable, and Justin felt the worry rub off on him, until he felt pressured to say something.

“Stop spreading your rotten mood, it’s making me anxious.” He said.

“What?” Emmanuel asked, with an unpleasant frown. “I’m not.”

“You are. We don’t have to talk about what happened. You fucked up. I don’t give a shit.” Justin answered.

“I didn’t fuck up anything.” Emmanuel scoffed, opening the fridge as if he’d forgotten that it was empty.

“You just don’t want to admit that you lost your temper. Say whatever you want, I was there.” Justin shrugged.

The atmosphere was even more tainted now, however Justin preferred this tension, since he’d gotten the upper hand.

“The fridge is empty, I’ll go buy something.” Emmanuel mumbled, putting his shoes back on.

“It’s raining,” Justin pointed out.

“Well would you rather starve?”

“No but-”

“Right.”

Emmanuel shut the door behind him, and Justin sneered slightly in response. He would have suggested that they just order something, but clearly it was an excuse to get out of the apartment. Emmanuel would’ve left either way.

“You’re going to cook?” Justin asked, when Emmanuel started unpacking the groceries.

“Surprised?” Emmanuel smirked.

“Yeah. Guess you’re not as useless as you seem.” Justin said.

Emmanuel didn’t answer, but started preparing the meal. Justin quietly watched, perhaps too intently. 

“You’ve been looking through my things.” Emmanuel said, picking a knife from one of the drawers.

“How did you know?” Justin asked, not exactly surprised that he had been found out, though the knife did unnerve him a bit.

“Let’s call it intuition,” Emmanuel answered. “If there was something you needed, you could’ve just asked.”

He started chopping up vegetables, while Justin disappeared into the bedroom. He shortly returned with the photo album under his arm.

“What’s in here?” He asked.

Emmanuel looked at him then the album, as if contemplating. He opened another drawer, picking up a small key from beneath the utensils, unlocking the path lock on the album, then handing it to Justin.

“See for yourself.”

As he continued cooking, Justin sat back down at the kitchen counter, carefully opening the album. The images inside all depicted strangers that Justin assumed were acquaintances of Emmanuel’s. He went through the pages with a furrowed brow. They all seemed to be taken at a facility he didn’t recognize, and not taken with an instax camera. There were several children, and one in particular caught his eye. 

“Where are these taken?” He asked.

“A research facility. It was shut down in 1996, by the Metropolitan police department, backed by local authorities.” Emmanuel answered.

“Why?”

“Keep turning the pages and you’ll find out.”

Justin did so, holding his breath with every page he turned. The pictures depicted the same strangers, but they seemed to be aging, suggesting that the pictures were taken over the span of several years. A girl with dark hair was photographed while having a lobotomy performed. In the following pictures the same girl was photographed incapable of performing ordinary tasks like eating, and self care. 

“Lobotomies were banned in the 60’s. When were these taken?” Justin asked.

“She was subject to the lobotomy in 1989.” Emmanuel answered.

Justin figured that the girl had been the only one subjected to it, since Emmanuel knew who Justin was referring to just by mentioning the procedure. He turned to the next page, this collection was of a boy, likely the age of 7-10. His face wasn’t shown, but his back was bare and covered in flesh wounds. Deep enough to scar. There were adults too, exposed to electroconvulsive therapy, trepanation, and what could only be described as torture. There was a photo double the size of the other ones. People of all ages, lined up and facing the camera. There were at least 20 of them, stitched up, and bandaged. It was a pitiful sight, and it just seemed to get worse. An eye hanging out of the socket, scratched to an unrecognizable sack of bloodied flesh. A skull bashed in at the forehead, tracing back to spatter on a white wall. Self inflicted wounds, and countless of them. Then it stopped abruptly, with a new theme, taken with an instax camera, and with people he recognized. Sanchez, standing next to a young Emmanuel, probably 16, wearing an oversized jacket from a police uniform, and a wide smile. Endless photos of them, seeming to carry an unspoken closeness that changed character gradually as the Emmanuel in the pictures grew older. Until the uniform fit. Justin wouldn’t have guessed they’d known each other that long. Each picture became more intimate, more bare. He was about to turn the next page but the album was shut promptly. Justin looked up at Emmanuel who appeared as neutral as ever. 

“Dinner’s ready.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Emmanuel said. “You can take the bed.”

And Justin did so, but he remained sleepless. He picked up his phone from the nightstand, checking the time, momentarily confused to see the numbers aligned the way they were. 11.32 Pm. He slumped back down onto the sheets with a sigh, thankful that the sheets didn’t have Emmanuel’s scent, but laundry detergent only. He could hear the traffic outside, an occasional ambulance, or slight commotion from the neighboring apartments. Other than that, it was quiet. He moved around impatiently, unable to keep his eyes shut for more than five seconds. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. Just as he was about to lay down again, he heard something from the living room. Fast pants, and rustling. He got up, slowly stepping towards the couch, listening. The floor was cold against his bare feet, and his heart picked up speed when he moved closer. All the way to the end of the couch, observing Emmanuel as he writhed, and heaved helplessly. Justin wasn’t sure of what to do although the situation reminded him of similar events. Like the time he’d visited Emmanuel when he was unconscious. He was simply asleep this time however, prompting Justin to wonder if waking him up would be the easiest solution.

“Screw it,” He sighed.

He got down on his knees at Emmanuel’s side, spectating for a few seconds. He looked on, as Emmanuel shuddered, and quivered violently. It was liberating. Seeing him with his guard down was always intriguing, but especially seeing him so weak and vulnerable. Observing as his composure unraveled, and got shattered. Yet, even knowing who Emmanuel was, he still felt a nagging sense of guilt for enjoying it, which pissed him off. He tilted his head slightly, simply taking in the sight. Emmanuel was curled up as if trying to protect himself. Justin reached out for Emmanuel’s hand, just like he’d done before, trying to pacify his nerves. He almost had a stroke when Emmanuel grabbed his wrist before he could get any closer. He opened his eyes instantly, gaze sharp and hostile.

“I wasn’t trying to…” Justin mumbled.

“I know,” Emmanuel answered. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I wasn’t asleep.” 

The silence went on for what felt like hours, as Justin contemplated what to do. He tried not to overthink the situation, getting to his feet again. He was about to head back to bed, but somehow he couldn’t leave. It was like a weight around his ankles, as if he was in shackles. He sighed, then turned to Emmanuel, offering his hand. 

“There’s room for the both of us. Quit being stubborn.” He said.

Emmanuel glanced at his hand, then back at the bed, as if he couldn’t quite figure out whether or not he trusted Justin. 

“Whatever you say,” He sighed. 

He took his hand, letting Justin lead him back to the bed. They got in, furthest from each other, and with their backs turned. Minutes went by, but they were both aware that none of them had fallen asleep.

“I remembered,” Emmanuel started.

Justin was relieved that he didn’t have to initiate the conversation himself. 

“What?” He asked, signaling for Emmanuel to continue.

“You. On top of me. At first I thought you were strangling me.”

“You mean… at the warehouse?” Justin hesitated.

“Indeed.” Emmanuel answered. “You weren’t strangling me, you were restraining me. I wasn’t sure if it was a real memory.”

“It probably was.” Justin said. “Were you scared?”

Emmanuel chuckled slightly. What a ridiculous thing to say.

“How long were you staring at me back there?” 

“A minute or so.” Justin answered.

Emmanuel sighed, processing for a while.

“I remembered something else too,” he mentioned, not sure if what he said would be of much use. “There was a glimpse of something. Something silvery. Shaped like a… butterfly. At least to the best of my recollection.”

“I see,” Justin answered, barely listening.

His mind was already somewhere else. Perhaps Emmanuel had needed him to listen, but surely it would be fine either way. Justin was still curious about other things, and he decided that now would be a good time to get some answers.

“Did you fuck him in this bed?”

Emmanuel didn't seem surprised.

“Who?”

“So there were more than one.” Justin concluded.

“I didn’t say that,” Emmanuel answered, though he enjoyed the slight jealousy in Justin’s voice.

“Then you know who I’m talking about.” Justin said. “You left that keycard on the floor that night on purpose. You wanted me to see.”

“And then you fucked that blond bimbo, so now I know you care.” Emmanuel said, leaving no hint of emotion in his voice. “You messed up.”

“It’s your fault.” Justin answered, with an uncertain tone. “You keep messing with my head.”

“I only mess with your head because you allow me to,” Emmanuel scoffed. “But don’t blame me for you not being able to keep it in your pants.”

Justin bit his lip, trying to think of a way to push back without letting it show that he had indeed messed up.

“You said I care? I don’t.” Justin Said. “Yes, I was pissed off that you played me, but I don’t give a shit about you.”

He couldn’t lie the way Emmanuel could, and it was showing. 

“Do you always shove your tongue down the throats of people you don’t give a shit about?” Emmanuel asked.

“I did it because I pity you!” Justin hissed.

Emmanuel was quiet for a few seconds, enough to make Justin think he’d poked the bear one too many times. But then he scoffed.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m just stating the facts,” Justin answered.

“Right. Facts. I’ve got some of those too.” Emmanuel said, turning to Justin. He could already hear Justin’s breathing growing rigid, and his heart beating out of his chest. He moved his lips close to Justin’s ear as he began.

“It’s adorable how you pretend to have self control. You don’t though. That’s why you feel the need to tell yourself, over and over, that you don’t care. You don’t care that the higher ups have more faith in me than they ever did you. And you don’t care you’ve lost your focus. You don’t care that the reason you need your lady friends to relieve you is that you can’t get me out of your head. You don’t care that you’re backed up. You don’t care, you don’t care, you don’t care.”

“Stop it.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just admit that you actually do care? Now, here’s where the facts come in. You  _ are  _ losing your focus, and the respect of your boss. You  _ are _ backed up, and that blond bimbo isn’t going to satisfy you. You’re as fucked up as I am, and that’s why I’m the only one who can give you the satisfaction you so desperately need.”

“You don’t know me,” Justin scoffed.

He tried pretending Emmanuel wasn’t right in his statements, but it seemed to no avail. 

“And yet I know that it’s my name on your lips when you touch yourself. So why not help me know you better?” Emmanuel answered, making no attempts at hiding his amusement.

Justin turned to him, eyes locked with his, trying not to reveal that Emmanuel knew something so deeply intimate about him. Was it really that obvious? His gaze darted from Emmanuel’s eyes to his lips, as he hesitated. Only for a second before leaning in, slowly, carefully, until their lips met. Just slightly at first, as if waiting for Emmanuel to push him away. But he didn’t. Like that night in the ICU, Justin was free to continue as he pleased, and Emmanuel was letting him. It was a light kiss, barely a kiss at all. Justin turned away again, settling back into the sheets. Hoping to leave his name on Emmanuel’s lips as well.

“That’s all you need to know,” Justin whispered. “I’m…”

He ended the sentence there hoping that Emmanuel would let it go, but knowing that he wouldn’t.

“You’re…?”

“Nothing,” Justin sighed.

“No, keep going.”

“Get some sleep.”

“Tell me.”

“Enough!” Justin snapped. “Stop.”

***

“Ready?” Emmanuel asked, picking up his wallet and putting it in his pocket.

They were supposed to visit the Washington police department, to meet with a forensic pathologist, and go through the records in search of similar cases of the drug. Justin was about to nod, when he remembered a simple task he’d been told to do, and had in fact yet to do.

“Take off your clothes, why don’t we get this over with before we head out?” Justin suggested, wanting to get it out of the way.

“Excuse me?” Emmanuel asked, raising an eyebrow, and Justin realized he hadn’t mentioned what they’d be doing.

Indeed, ‘take off your clothes’ wasn’t a statement that should be made without context.

“We’re doing a quick check up, just like you’ve done with Shinzo,” Justin explained.

“Is that really necessary?” Emmanuel asked.

“It’s not like I wanted to do this. Can we please just get it over with?” Justin sighed. “I’m just going to take a look and make sure everything is healing properly.”

Emmanuel gestured for Justin to do as he pleased, knowing that however uncomfortable he himself would be, it wouldn’t be easy for Justin either. Considering what had occurred the last time he’d let Justin take care of his body, they were both left with low expectations from each other. Justin couldn’t mask his own nervousness, or the fact that Emmanuel’s body had led him to lose control once before.

“I’ll…” Justin mumbled, as he unbuttoned Emmanuel’s shirt, not sure where to focus his gaze. “Sorry.”

There was no reason to apologize, but the fact that he was doing just that sent the signal that he expected himself to slip up. It made everything more awkward than it actually had to be, and Justin was getting even more frustrated with himself as his hands started trembling.

“It’s okay,” Emmanuel said, pleased with himself, and how nervous Justin was. “You’re just going to take a look, and that’s it. You can do that can’t you?”

His tone was mocking, and his expression taunting. It was clear that he expected Justin to screw up like last time, and it sparked the teal flicker in his eyes knowing that just his body could drive Justin to the edge.

“Of course,” Justin sneered, steadying himself. 

He finished unbuttoning Emmanuel’s shirt, sliding it down his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. He studied the bruised skin, noting how the colors seemed to blend more with Emmanuel’s skin, indicating that they were fading. Even the flesh wounds seemed to be healing properly without the help of the medication that Emmanuel wasn’t taking. He brushed his fingers over the marks and bruises, holding his breath as he did so. 

“So far, so good.” He mumbled, and redirected his attention to the zipper of Emmanuel’s trousers.

He cleared his throat, knowing Emmanuel wasn’t going to help him, eager to see him struggle with it himself. He reached down, unzipping his trousers slowly, and casually, as if his hand wasn’t extremely close to a place he knew was dangerous. Kneeling as he pulled the trousers down to Emmanuel’s ankles, he took note of the few bruises and wounds decorating his legs and thighs before getting back up. He suddenly found himself with the upper hand, deciding to tease Emmanuel in return.

“You masturbate with your right hand, correct?” Justin asked, his tone as neutral as he could manage. “Since your right shoulder was dislocated would you say that task is now difficult?”

Emmanuel crossed his arms, yet the slight smirk on his lips indicated a hint of amusement.

“I doubt that question is relevant,” He answered, arrogance like that of someone who wasn’t half naked.

“Humor me,” Justin said, staring him down.

He was almost certain Emmanuel wouldn’t take the bait, however it seemed he was wrong.

“I wouldn’t know,” Emmanuel answered. “I had some help the last time, and I haven’t had time nor privacy to find out since then.”

Justin knew that the ‘help’ Emmanuel was referring to could only be Sanchez. It bothered him immensely, but he couldn’t quite explain why. 

“Jealousy,” Emmanuel said. “That’s the word you’re looking for.”

Indeed, it was. Justin wasn’t about to admit it though, replying with a simple scoff. Emmanuel had, as so many times before, ended up superior. 

“We’re going to be late,” He pointed out, gesturing for Emmanuel to put his clothes back on.

  
  


The station wasn’t much bigger than what Justin recognized from back home, but of course the unfamiliarity struck him as hard as he’d expected it to. He wasn’t exactly eager to enter new territory, but the task seemed straight forward, and there was no reason to make things more difficult. The hallways were buzzing with life. People were socializing for the sake of socializing. Laughter, chatter and warmth was filling the air. It made Justin uncomfortable. Contrary to what he had expected, Emmanuel seemed not to be well received. Wherever they went he was greeted with passive aggressive attitudes and frowns, but indeed he appeared unaffected, even used to it. When they reached the mortuary, Justin finally asked the obvious.

“Why do people react that way to your presence?” 

Emmanuel wasn’t surprised by Justin’s question, seeing as he himself was used to the behavior, while Justin was mostly well liked by his department.

“It’s funny you think I care enough to ask,” Emmanuel said, unbothered.

“Right,” Justin answered.

They were soon greeted by the available forensic pathologists present. Unlike the rest of Emmanuel’s colleagues, they weren’t as hostile, and merely indifferent. Professional rather. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” A young woman said, crossing her arms as if preparing for a long conversation. “You could’ve mentioned that you were leaving.”

“I didn’t expect to be gone for more than two weeks,” Emmanuel answered, leaning against the doorframe. “Unfortunately I’m not back for good. I do however need your help.”

“I see,” She nodded, redirecting her attention to Justin. “Who’s the new guy?”

“Lieutenant Justin Trudeau,” Justin said, introducing himself.

“Sanna Marin,” She answered, shaking his hand. “So how can I help?”

Emmanuel explained the situation, trying to leave out as few details as possible, however there was quite a lot of them.

“I’ll coordinate with Sanchez, though I’m sure Chief Merkel has already informed him of the circumstances,” Emmanuel said, and left for Sanchez’ office. “The lieutenant will tell you whatever I haven’t mentioned.”

When he was gone Justin turned to Sanna, rather awkwardly waiting for Emmanuel to return, but soon realized it would probably take some time. He studied her features, noting that she was in fact very beautiful, even in scrubs. She wasn’t a pushover, but still she’d agreed to help Emmanuel and a stranger so easily. Perhaps there was something between her and Emmanuel, undoubtedly one-sided.

“Why is the detective so disliked by the people here, and why are you an exception?” Justin asked, breaching the silence.

“People tend to not like nepotism,” She answered. “Especially this kind.”

Justin didn’t have a chance to wonder what ‘kind’ of nepotism she was referring to, as she continued.

“I know Emmanuel though,” She said. “He’s here because he deserves to be, not because he’s screwing the boss.”

Justin was slightly surprised by how certain she was, when clearly she understood what kind of person Emmanuel was. He simply nodded, unsure of what else to do or say.

“Why don’t we go find them?” She said, and Justin followed without question.

After a quiet walk they reached the office, and Justin was barely able to register the situation when she simply opened the door, apparently feeling entitled to do so. Justin hesitantly followed her into the room, and as soon as he was inside she merely left, shutting the door behind her. Justin shifted uncomfortably as both Sanchez and Emmanuel stared at him, waiting for him to say something, and when he failed to do so, Sanchez took over.

“You didn’t mention bringing guests,” He said, giving Justin a calculated gaze.

“I guess you could say we’re partners,” Emmanuel answered, crossing his arms. 

“In that case,” Sanchez said with a shallow smile. “There’s a gathering tonight, to celebrate the anniversary of the department. The more the merrier. Feel free to join, and Emmanuel why don’t we finish our conversation then.”

Emmanuel simply nodded, and he and Justin left the office. When they were back on the street Justin cleared his throat.

“So are we going?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“We are,” Emmanuel answered, less than enthusiastic. 

They’d searched the city’s records but the closest they’d gotten to their mystery drug was a guy on bath salts eating another guy’s face. Rather unhelpful.


	7. Uncanny

Justin stood out, since he hadn’t packed a suit, not that he owned one or intended to buy one. He hung back, letting Emmanuel do the socializing, while he observed the other guests. He kept his eyes partially on Sanchez who was with a group of his colleagues, possibly some of Emmanuel’s higher ups. He wondered why Sanchez had extended the invitation if he didn’t plan on greeting him. Perhaps he knew? Knew that Justin was laying hands on something he considered his. However impossible that theory clearly was, Justin couldn’t let it go. He glanced over, and for a second their eyes met. Sanchez clenched his jaw, but didn’t seem to react any further than that, taking a sip of his drink. Justin felt momentarily uneasy, lowering his gaze. 

“I’ll be right back,” Emmanuel said.

He walked out into the hallway, which seemed to catch Sanchez’ attention, and he excused himself as well. Justin looked on as both of them disappeared, wondering if it was planned. Obviously it was. He bit his lip, shaking his head slightly as he decided to follow. He stepped closer to the door, leaning against the wall, able to pick up on their conversation.

“You brought the puppy along.” Sanchez concluded.

“You were the one who invited him.” Emmanuel sighed, pacing slightly.

“I didn’t expect him to actually show up.” Sanchez scoffed, likely annoyed that Justin had indeed showed up. “You know, he seems to hate your guts.”

“Oh trust me, he does,” Emmanuel answered. “Justifiably so.”

“I see,” Sanchez said. “When are you going back?”

“Tomorrow,” Emmanuel answered. “The case is far from over.”

Which was true. The reason he and Justin had even left the city, was because the case had unfolded beyond their capabilities, prompting them to show up and ask for help on behalf of the department. Something they undoubtedly wouldn’t have done had it not been absolutely necessary.

“They can handle it on their own can’t they?” Sanchez asked.

Emmanuel sighed, thinking for a few seconds before answering. Even if they really could handle it on their own, Emmanuel wasn’t sure if he was willing to abandon the case.

“It’s better if I’m there.” He answered.

Sanchez nodded, however it was clear that he wasn’t happy with Emmanuel’s answer. He decided to let it go, even if it wouldn’t be for long.

“Lagarde called me,” Sanchez said. “She told me that you assaulted a man.”

“That bitch tattled on me?” Emmanuel chuckled.

He wasn’t surprised. Of course news of his actions would find their way back to Sanchez, whether he wanted it or not. 

“Be grateful the man you assaulted didn’t,” Sanchez sighed. “I settled it.”

It wasn’t obvious if he was trying to make Emmanuel feel dependent on him, or if he merely acted out the part of an exhausted parent to express disappointment. Either way, Emmanuel wasn’t about to play along.

“You want a ‘thank you’ is that it?” Emmanuel scoffed, perhaps a more childish attitude than he had initially intended.

“What is with you all of a sudden? Assaulting people, bringing that puppy with you everywhere, being disobedient. I’ve never seen you act out like this.” Sanchez exclaimed. “It’s that place isn’t it? It’s not good for you.”

Emmanuel wasn’t sure how to refute the fact that he was indeed becoming more independent, or if he wanted to affirm it. Whether or not it was a good thing however, wasn’t as easy to determine. Was Sanchez right? 

“What’s your point?” Emmanuel asked, stepping closer, deciding to ignore any merit of what had previously been said.

“Emmanuel you need to think this through. You’ve already been hurt, and I can’t just leave my duties behind to come check up on you.” Sanchez sighed.

Emmanuel scoffed at what Sanchez had thought to be a harmless statement. Things were different. Things had changed. Whatever bumps and bruises Emmanuel would experience was his responsibility alone. He didn’t need Sanchez to ‘check up on him’ and it bothered him immensely that anyone would think that he wasn’t capable of taking care of himself.

“I never asked you to come check up on me. Stay in Washington with your wife next time.” Emmanuel answered.

“Don’t bring her into this.” Sanchez scolded.

He knew that Emmanuel was trying to throw him off, or make him feel guilty. It was indeed childish, and they both knew it.

“Whatever,” Emmanuel answered, wanting to escape the conversation. “I’m going back inside.” He said, about to leave.

“I’m not finished,” Sanchez said, grabbing his wrist, and instantly let it go when Emmanuel winced in pain at the wounds. “Look, why don’t you just stay in Washington. I’ll put you on a case. You’ll get the promotion.”

Even Sanchez himself knew that it wasn’t a promise worth much.

“You don’t mean that.” Emmanuel sighed.

“I do!” Sanchez protested. “If you stay here I’ll-”

“You only come crawling back when you think you’re going to lose me, so why would I believe you?” Emmanuel chuckled. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve lied to me. Promised me something, when you didn’t mean it. I can’t go on like this, and neither can you.”

The conversation was turning into something different. It was becoming something typical of them. A conversation with no objective, and no progress to be made. It was only there for the purpose of endless accusations, tiring expectations that couldn’t be fulfilled, and a way to blame each part for their own shortcomings.

“I told you I can’t leave my wife. I get that you’re upset but-” Sanchez tried, repeating a phrase he knew was useless.

“I don’t care about that. Do what you want. Just don’t lie to me.” Emmanuel hissed, getting ready to leave. “I’ve got enough bullshit to deal with already.”

Most of their arguments ended with sex, but this wasn’t one such situation, and somehow that felt freeing. He stepped back inside, catching Justin listening. He didn’t say anything but merely crossed his arms, and Justin gave him an apologetic look.

“Stay. Have fun. I’m going home.” Emmanuel sighed.

“Are you sure?” Justin asked.

Emmanuel didn’t answer, but just went for the elevator, leaving Justin at the door.

“Puppy!” Sanchez called, and Justin sighed.

“Please don’t call me that.” 

“Get in here.”

Justin hesitated, knowing he could probably catch the elevator if he hurried. On the other hand, Emmanuel didn’t seem to want company. He went into the hallway where Sanchez was standing, slightly curious.

“What do you want?” Justin asked.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? Why were you eavesdropping?” Sanchez asked.

He didn’t appreciate having someone like Justin involve himself in something that wasn’t his business. It was far too complex.

“I’m supposed to stay close to him.” Justin answered.

It was a stupid excuse, and they both recognized that. He had no right to impose on a conversation he wasn’t a part of, and Emmanuel would surely agree that Justin had overstepped, even if he wasn’t there to say so. 

“But that’s not really the reason is it? Don’t lie to me.” Sanchez said.

“You seem to be okay with lying yourself though,” Justin scoffed. 

It was obvious that he’d heard every part of their argument, and he was now using it against Sanchez, which he knew he had no right to do. In that moment however, he considered it fair game. Sanchez grabbed his collar, pushing him up against the wall. Even though the difference in size was fairly insignificant, Sanchez was slightly bigger than himself, and Justin would be lying if he said it wasn’t mildly threatening at the least. He wondered if Emmanuel had ever been in the position he was now in. 

“Don’t test me,” Sanchez warned. 

Justin didn’t move. He waited until Sanchez had cooled down a bit, before speaking.

“You’re taking advantage of him.” Justin said, figuring he’d give his personal opinion, even though no one had asked for it. “Do you shove him up against the wall like this as well?”

Sanchez chuckled, letting go of Justin’s collar, giving the appearance of civility.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I saved him. He would be dead or worse if it wasn’t for me.”

“What do you mean…?” Justin asked.

Sanchez crossed his arms, with a pleasant smile.

“For the record, I rarely shove him up against the wall,” He smirked, leaning in with a low voice. “I prefer bending him down over my desk, as I do him from the back.” 

Justin raised an eyebrow, registering everything that he’d just heard, but refusing to let the image form in his head. When Sanchez was being vulgar, he appeared almost as wicked as Emmanuel. 

“I’m leaving,” He said, realizing that if his excuse was to be close to Emmanuel at all times, then he’d better get to it.

“Just one more thing,” Sanchez said. “Did you fuck?”

That mere sentence seemed to surprise both of them. Even if Sanchez relied on Emmanuel not to sleep with someone else, he was certainly giving off the impression that he had no confidence in Emmanuel to be faithful. It was a double standard as well, since he himself wasn’t faithful. Justin could’ve sworn that Sanchez had said that Justin appeared to hate Emmanuel, so why this sudden shift in attitude?

“Jealous?” Justin smirked, clearing his throat when Sanchez looked ready to pin him back up against the wall. “Relax, I didn’t touch him.”

“Good,” Sanchez sighed. “It stays that way. Are we clear?”

He wasn’t eager to admit that he was indeed jealous, but he needed to establish some boundaries, even if it was behind Emmanuel’s back.

“Thought you had a wife,” Justin pointed out. “Why do you care who he sleeps with? It seems pretty clear that he doesn’t answer to you.” 

Justin knew that he didn’t have to make it difficult. He could simply agree, and swear to stay away, even if it was a lie. 

“You don’t know him. And you certainly don’t know me. I’m telling you this for your sake; don’t ever let him know what you’re thinking or feeling, because he will use it against you.”

Justin didn’t answer, leaving the way Emmanuel had done. He didn’t spare a moment for the other guests, heading back to the apartment Immediately.

***

When Justin entered, he instantly spotted Emmanuel sitting on the edge of the bed with his face buried in his hands. 

“You’re back earlier than I expected,” Emmanuel said.

Justin sighed, considering turning on the lights, but deciding that Emmanuel had probably left them off for a reason. 

“Your boss didn’t seem too happy about me sticking around.” 

Emmanuel scoffed, waiting for Justin to go on about the events that had taken place after he’d left.

“He mentioned something that got me thinking,” Justin said. “Something about saving you.” 

“And you want to know if I’m fucking him because I owe him?” Emmanuel chuckled. “Because I’m his rescue dog?”

“I didn’t say that,” Justin mumbled. “Is it true that the city is messing with you? What he said-”

“It’s not about the city,” Emmanuel interrupted. “It’s about you.”

“Explain,” Justin ordered.

Emmanuel sighed, getting up. He walked across the floor, stopping in front of him. 

“You drive me crazy.”

He knew what Justin wanted to hear, and how to lure him. If he could manage to level the dominance accordingly, Justin would be encouraged enough to cooperate on Emmanuel’s terms. 

“You were already crazy,” Justin answered.

Emmanuel nodded slightly to himself, crossing his arms. Seemingly he’d have to help the process along. 

“Right,” He answered. “What you were saying yesterday-”

“I can’t do this right now,” Justin sighed. “Sanchez told me not to get involved. If we continue…”

“Then what? Finish your sentence from yesterday and we can leave it at that.”

“I can’t…” Justin sighed, not wanting to go into further detail.

Emmanuel kept his eyes locked with Justin’s a few seconds longer. He considered saying something, but decided against it. He was fairly frustrated that Sanchez had essentially messed up his efforts before things had a chance to get interesting. Whatever he’d told Justin it had undoubtedly made him wary to the point that Emmanuel couldn’t have his way.

“We should get some sleep,” Justin sighed. “We’re going back tomorrow.”

Emmanuel nodded, but instantly regretted settling. He grabbed Justin’s wrist, moving forward, daring him to step back. There had to be some way to push him over the edge.

“If you’re worried you’ll hurt my feelings, you really don’t know me.”

“It’s not that,” Justin said.

Emmanuel leaned in even closer. Close enough to hear Justin’s heart beating rapidly. He gave him a calculating gaze, pressuring him for his honesty, and succeeding. 

“You’re driving me crazy as well. Everything you said yesterday is true.” Justin sighed. “I never once told you what’s going on inside my head, but somehow you always seem to know. So I can’t let you get any closer.”

Justin’s voice was gradually becoming more shaky, and his eyes more fixated on anything but Emmanuel. 

“I want to get closer though,” Emmanuel said sweetly. “Let me?”

Justin tried steadying his heartbeat, but his breathing was too rigid, and he felt a knot form in his chest. Emmanuel stepped closer once again, forcing Justin to step back, until he was up against the wall, hard behind him. He struggled to keep his head above water, desperately wanting to drown in the moment. He turned away, refusing to let Emmanuel see him unravel. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Emmanuel leaned in, his lips once again at Justin’s ear.

“You’re scared because you know that I can be anything you want. All you have to do is let me,” He whispered. “Justin…”

There was no escape as Justin realized that it was the first time Emmanuel had said his name. He felt a certain kind of tingling everywhere in his body, making him shiver. Clouding his mind, and his judgement. He met Emmanuel’s eyes. That flickering teal, promising endlessness and mania, and it made him go blank, as if entranced.

“I’m in love with you.”

He felt the words leave his lips, as if they’d been dug up from inside his chest. He felt the simplicity of the words even though they carried immense weight. He felt the regret, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. And finally he felt the urge. The urge to repeat the words. He’d done exactly what he’d been warned against. He knew that Emmanuel would recognize the power he now held, and that aspect was the only relevant one. He wouldn’t consider what it meant emotionally for Justin. Only that he could now take advantage of it. And yet even knowing that about Emmanuel, Justin had still fallen. He couldn’t pass it off as mere physical attraction, because it had transcended beyond that. He couldn’t quite explain it. There was no reason for it, and no rationality behind it. But he couldn’t help it and there was no way out.

“That’s it,” Emmanuel said.

He looked at Justin through his lashes, reveling in the poisonous atmosphere. He let out a glimpse of his greed, baring his teeth. Just for a second he didn’t look human. Justin let out a gasp, horrified. He pushed Emmanuel away, and fled through the door, leaving him behind.

***

“What did you do to him?” Sanchez asked, gesturing to the sleeping Justin sitting against the wall.

“Nothing,” Emmanuel shrugged, crossing his arms. “You’re sure you weren’t the one who said something you shouldn’t have?”

Sanchez scoffed, both of them standing in the hall, about to have another meeting with Lagarde.

“He told you?” 

Even though Emmanuel was less than thrilled to have Sanchez get involved in his relationship to Justin, he figured he could let it go since he’d gotten what he wanted either way.

“Guess it doesn’t matter,” Emmanuel sighed. “I’m pretty sure he slept here though.”

Emmanuel poked Justin slightly with his shoe, seemingly to no avail. 

“When you called last night, I was hoping it would be for different purposes…” Sanchez sighed.

“Of course you were.” Emmanuel smirked. “However, I need your authority to win her over.”

“Lagarde isn’t someone who changes her mind.” Sanchez answered. “Especially not after you decided to assault someone.”

“It wasn’t actually…” Emmanuel tried. “Look, you weren’t there.”

Sanchez checked his watch, then looked at Justin.

“Wake him up, it’s almost time.”

Emmanuel did as he was told, kneeling at Justin’s side. He looked absolutely awful, perhaps due to the fact that he’d been sleeping against the wall on concrete floor. Even so, he really did appear to be a wreck. 

“Lieutenant,” He tried, clearing his throat. “Get your shit together.”

Justin didn’t respond, and Emmanuel shook him gently. When he finally opened his eyes, he looked less than pleased with the circumstances. When he spotted Sanchez, he simply rolled his eyes with a scoff.

“Nice to see you too lieutenant,” Sanchez answered with a nod, sarcasm almost undetected, but nevertheless there.

“Lagarde is waiting for us,” Emmanuel said, and helped Justin up.

He didn’t look any happier to see the detective. They entered the office after shaking hands with Lagarde, the atmosphere rather tense.

“I didn’t expect to see you here chief Sanchez,” Lagarde said, greeting him last.

“I didn’t expect to be here ma’am,” He answered. “Shall we get started?”

They all took a seat at the desk, Sanchez sitting between Emmanuel and Justin. 

“So,” She started. “Have you decided to proceed with the adoption?”

“Yes,” Emmanuel answered. “But without getting the father involved.”

“With all due respect detective, we’ve been over this before.” She said. “If he’s as bad as you seem to believe, there’s no chance he’ll gain custody.”

“You’re underestimating him,” Justin mumbled absently.

Emmanuel shoved Sanchez gently with his knee, prompting him to get involved.

“Is there really nothing you can do?” He asked. “It’s a complicated situation, but in the end we need to do what’s best for the child.”

“I completely agree, but it’s not how we do things. There’s a protocol. You of all people should know that.” She answered, seeming to speak to Sanchez and Emmanuel specifically, perhaps making a reference to the fact that they were on the outside. “Contact me when you’ve decided. And for the record...”

She paused, looking between the three of them with a raised eyebrow.

“Whatever this uncanny love triangle is, I don’t want to see it in my office again.”

  
  


“I told you she wasn’t going to change her mind,” Sanchez sighed, as they once again left the office.

“You barely tried,” Emmanuel argued, checking his phone. 

Justin’s mind was still somewhere else, and he made an attempt to interrupt their discussion.

“What did she mean ‘you of all people should know that’?” He asked.

“None of your business,” Sanchez answered bitterly, knowing Justin was probably getting tired of hearing that phrase. “I’m headed back to the station. Think about what we discussed yesterday.”

Emmanuel gave him a slight nod, before Sanchez walked off. He turned back to Justin who seemed deep in thought.

“He adopted you. That’s what he meant by ‘saving you’...” Justin concluded, finally putting the pieces together.

It was something that should’ve been obvious from the beginning, even had he not discovered the photo album. Yet, how could something so absurd be reality? 

“Congratulations,” Emmanuel scoffed, nodding slowly. “You guessed it.”

“You’re screwing your dad…” Justin mumbled, staring at him.

“He’s not my dad,” Emmanuel said. “Don’t make this something it’s not.”

Justin shivered slightly, trying to push the thought away. The conversation ended there, and none of them revived it even as they picked up Avvie.

***

_ 2006 _

_ When Sanchez got home it was already dark out, however she hadn’t gone to sleep, sitting at the kitchen table.  _

_ “You could have told me you were going to be home late,” She said. “I was worried.” _

_ He stepped towards the sink, filling up a glass of water. Even though his back was turned, he could sense her eyes digging into him, and somehow he could tell that both of them knew what he’d done. He sighed, resting against the counter as he waited for her to speak.  _

_ “Is this your way of telling me you want a divorce?” She asked, pointing to the hickey on his neck. “You’re both sick.” _

_ “How do you know he was the one I went to see?” He asked, unsure of what else to say. _

_ “I knew this was going to happen,” She answered. “From the moment you let him into our home-” _

_ “It was a mutual decision!” _

_ “Shut up!” She yelled. “Let me talk. You were always taking his side, degrading me, letting him manipulate you. Why didn’t you listen to me?! I’m your wife…” _

_ He felt the guilt weighing heavy on him, knowing that he had neglected her for his own selfish reasons.  _

_ “You didn’t want to be wrong about him, yet you don’t realize that you were never right.” She sighed. “But I’m not letting him destroy us. We have two kids together, so don’t even think about leaving us behind.” _

_ He wasn’t sure of what to say, or how to comfort her, without making false promises.  _

_ “I know that seeing him is unavoidable,” She said. “I don’t care what you do outside of this house, but don’t you dare bring him back here. If anyone asks, he’s not a part of this family, and he never was.”  _

_ “I can’t cut him off,” He argued.  _

_ “Be glad I’m not kicking you out with him,” She hissed. “Do whatever you want, fuck him for all I care. But let’s see if you still want him when he decides to ruin your life for the fun of it.” _

_ She gave him a not so subtle look of disgust, before leaving. _


	8. Teal

“Morgan is gonna take Avvie back to the brothel for a shower and to see the escorts.” Justin said. “We’re going to stay here while there’s water. You can have the showers to yourself if you want.”

“You’re sure?” Emmanuel asked. “It’s going to be another three days before the filtered water comes back on again.”

Indeed, after the attack the chief had decided to switch the water supply, making it impossible to get filtered water between certain time frames. It was a temporary solution, yet it also meant that most of the time there would be red water filled with iron.

“It’s fine,” Justin answered. “You take this one, and I’ll take the next.”

Emmanuel simply nodded heading towards the showers, but pausing and turning back to Justin. 

“It’s irrational that there are five hoses but we only use one. At least take advantage of the water when it’s here.” Emmanuel said. “Besides, it shouldn’t be a problem, unless you don’t trust me that is.”

Justin hesitated for a few seconds before admitting to himself that Emmanuel was essentially right. Though the one he didn’t trust was mostly himself, he followed Emmanuel to the showers in silence. They were probably both aware that Justin did have an apartment, and he could simply shower there even if he was supposed to look after Emmanuel until Shinzo could take over. This merely seemed like another game. He couldn’t explain why he wanted to play along, since the outcome would rarely be in his favor. However, if there turned out to be a problem after all, he could simply leave.

All showers turned on simultaneously. The water was clear, and nothing like the reddish-brown water they had to wash their hands in. There was also no smell of iron, that tends to linger and make you nauseous. They had to bathe quickly before it was turned off again. Justin took the shower farthest from Emmanuel who didn’t seem to pay attention to the lieutenant. He tried harder than probably natural not to look in Emmanuel’s direction. He had glanced at the pile of clothes and decided that it was probably better if he occupied himself with showering instead. Just showering. The tiles quickly became blurry from the steam filling the room, and Justin was more or less thankful that he couldn’t see much. Until Emmanuel caught his eye, more specifically a pattern on Emmanuel’s back caught his eye, just barely before his vision was obscured by steam. He considered letting it go but in the span of only a few seconds he was moving closer. He went from one stream of hot water to the next, slowly, knowing how it must’ve looked if he wasn’t hiding in the thick clouds of steam that grew with every second the water ran. He counted, making sure to know how far Emmanuel would be. He spotted the silhouette between the running water, still, almost like a statue, or a shadow of himself, when it suddenly disappeared. Justin froze in place, holding his breath as he attempted to focus his eyes on the empty spot under the water. He reached out carefully, feeling the water hitting the surface of his hand as he moved it closer into the stream. but there was no one there. He was about to curse assuming that he’d been caught, and Emmanuel had walked away when he’d realized. But something got a firm grip of his wrist before he could retract it, and he barely jumped when another hand appeared from the blurry void of steam, running up his jawline. Justin didn’t dare move, as Emmanuel leaned closer, keeping that firm grip of him. His hair was strewn back and dripping, while his eyes were fixated coldly on Justin. They looked silver and icy, in an empty way, like cheap metal. And Justin realized the mistake he’d made. 

“I’ve lost my mind.” He whispered quietly to himself. 

“Good boy.” Emmanuel said, with a sinister smile. 

The way they were entangled was like a struggle for power, except it was clear who had all the power. When Justin relaxed slightly, or perhaps just came to terms with the roles of dominance, Emmanuel moved his hand from Justin’s cheek, and gently pushed the wet strands of dark hair behind his ear. Justin couldn’t help but lean into his touch, and admire the unusual warmth. Emmanuel loosened his grip of Justin’s wrist and instead steered his hand towards his waist. Justin gently followed, until he could feel the skin at his fingertips. All while remaining a mutual gaze that never strayed farther than the lips, however tempted they became. Justin unconsciously leaned forward until their foreheads were touching slightly, and he heard no complaints as he did so. He was about to take the next step but was interrupted by the water suddenly changing color, back to the familiar red, filling the room with a dense smell of iron. And Emmanuel was already gone. Justin wasn’t sure of what he’d seen, but it strangely reminded him of something. He had a theory, however decided to let it go, at least for now.

***

Emmanuel made his way towards the Mayor’s office, casting a glance behind him once in a while to make sure he truly was alone. When he reached the familiar double doors, he pressed the buzzer and winked at the security camera out of habit. It didn’t take more than a few seconds before the Mayor appeared before him dressed, unflatteringly, in a gold satin robe. Emmanuel wasn’t surprised in the least, after all it was 23.47, almost midnight. 

“Detective!” The Mayor said, his pleasant tone as fake as his tan probably was. “Why don’t you come in?”

Emmanuel took him up on it, and made his way inside the dimly lit estate. He was quite sure he wouldn’t have been granted the same access if he’d brought guests. In the end however, he had no intention of entrusting anyone with the purpose of his late night visit.

“I would’ve made the place more presentable if I’d known you were coming.” Trump said, showing his teeth like a hungry animal.

“Then let’s make this quick.” Emmanuel answered, much to the Mayor’s displeasure. “Why don’t we take a seat.”

Trump shrugged, but led the detective to the desk in his office. He gestured for them to sit, and Emmanuel cautiously did so. While it seemed the Mayor was incompetent and highly incapable, the detective knew better than anyone about the masks humans tend to wear in order to get what they want. In the end, you can never really trust anyone.

“Well?” Trump smirked. “I’m not one to take interest in the Baron’s used playthings, but I’ll make an exception for you.” 

Emmanuel didn’t blink, nor did he make an effort to shut down the Mayor’s delusions. At least until he’d made his own agenda clear.

“You knew she was yours, didn’t you?”

Trump merely scoffed, lacing his fingers together to signal that this was business.

“All the whores are mine, including you.”

Indeed, this meant business.

Emmanuel grinned slightly, charmingly, loosening his tie. Trump eyed his movement closely, taking in what appeared to be a rightfully earned prize.

“Fetch me a drink and I might let you sign me like one of your tacky buildings.” Emmanuel said, pulling off the tie.

Trump got up dutifully, heading for the liquor cabinet. He didn’t get far however, because at his first step Emmanuel was right behind him. He felt the tip of the blade against his lower back, poking through the satin robe. He held up his hands, with a chuckle, waiting for the proposition.

“The kid, Avvie.” Emmanuel said. “You’re the biological father. But you knew that didn’t you. So let’s make a deal.”

“Oh I’m great at making deals.” Trump answered, with pride laced into his voice. “But perhaps we could agree to do this without the knife.”

Emmanuel reluctantly retracted the blade from the Mayor’s back, and sat back down. 

“Yes of course I knew. You never wondered why Lynn could maintain her job at the brothel without selling herself? I was paying the expenses. Let’s call it an investment. The child she was carrying was mine as well. Once Avvie becomes a bit more mature, she’ll work for me. Lynn bought her freedom from me, and Avvie was the price.”

Emmanuel clenched his fists involuntarily.

“Wasn’t getting a prostitute pregnant once enough? You really needed her to carry another child under those circumstances?” He asked, trying to maintain his composure.

“Oh the second child wasn’t planned.” Trump answered dismissively. “She’d be allowed to take the new baby with her when she left the city.”

“She was going to leave Avvie behind?” 

“Of course. Avvie comes to live with me, working as my personal escort-”

“I believe that’s called incest,” Emmanuel said, with a disgusted expression, not seeing that perhaps he had no ground to stand on. “You’re more fucked up than I thought.”

“Don’t be stupid. Let me tell you something you might not know detective.” The Mayor started. “Money isn’t worth as much as personal favors and priceless gifts. Exchanging the body of a daughter of mine would be a sign of strong partnership. It’s called diplomacy. It may not be pretty, but sometimes it’s what it takes to seal the deal.”

“And in return for a daughter you agreed to smuggle Lynn out of the city, with her second child.” Emmanuel concluded.

“Too bad she’s dead now. Seems like I’ll have to raise the kid myself.” Trump sighed. “I had hoped the remaining escorts would take over. However, you screwed that up for me as well.”

“The escorts have clients. She wouldn’t be supervised, and in a place like that it simply wouldn’t be safe.” Emmanuel said, as he was getting impatient, and eager to get to the point. “We’re putting her up for adoption on the outside.”

The Mayor scoffed condescendingly.

“Like hell you are. She’s still my daughter, which means i have the last say in the matter.”

“Interfere and I’ll stab you.” Emmanuel said, fingers running along the shaft of his knife. 

“You’re too selfish to sacrifice your career and possibly your freedom for this,” Trump scoffed. “An empty threat like that isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

“Tell me what you want then,” Emmanuel sighed.

“You.” 

“All men want what they can’t have,” Emmanuel answered. “Think of something reasonable.”

“Guess I’ll take custody then,” Trump shrugged.

Emmanuel gave him a wary look, tilting his head to the side.

“One night is all I ask for,” Trump smirked. “And then you can do whatever you want with the girl.”

Emmanuel lowered his head with a sigh. He looked up at the Mayor, contemplating for a while. 

“Fine.”

***

“Where did you go,” Justin asked. 

Emmanuel hung his coat on the chair, at the desk. He didn’t look at Justin, but merely went through some papers, as if they had any relevance.

“Just out,” He answered. “Don’t worry about it.”

Justin wandered over to the desk, laying his hands on the surface of the papers so that Emmanuel was forced to focus elsewhere.

“I do worry though,” Justin said. “Where did you go?”

He wasn’t about to let Emmanuel off that easy. Something didn’t sit well with him, and he could tell that Emmanuel harbored that sense of discomfort as well. He needed for them to communicate.

“The Mayor’s office,” Emmanuel shrugged. “He’s agreed to let us put Avvie up for adoption.”

Justin heaved a sigh of relief, throwing his head back.

“Thank god,” Justin said. “Why did you tell him alone? Something could’ve happened. You didn’t know how he was going to react.”

Emmanuel averted his eyes, seemingly distracted.

“Clearly things turned out fine,” He mumbled, writing something down.

“How did you get him to agree to it?” Justin asked, becoming increasingly wary, especially knowing the type of person the detective was, not to mention the Mayor. “Did you hurt him?”

“Of course not,” Emmanuel scoffed, still scribbling on a piece of paper.

“We both know he wouldn’t comply that easily,” Justin said. “What did you do?”

He looked down at Emmanuel who was still ridiculously absorbed in whatever he was scribbling. Justin was becoming impatient, snatching the piece of paper from Emmanuel. He furrowed his brow at the writings on the paper, as it brought him back to the apartment.

“The lord is my shepherd, I shall not want”

He supposed it was a nervous quirk. Emmanuel took back the paper, crumbling it and throwing it in the trash bin.

“What’s your problem?” He hissed. “I got the job done didn’t I?”

Justin looked at him, absolutely dumbfounded by the fact that Emmanuel thought he could get away with withholding information. Justin didn’t have unconditional trust in Emmanuel, and he’d expected that to be obvious.

“Just tell me,” He insisted. “What did you do?”

Emmanuel sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, preparing himself for Justin’s reaction when he told him what he undoubtedly did not want to hear. He’d convinced himself to be unapologetic. He did what he had to do, so why was that very conviction now insufficient? It was obvious; Justin. He himself wasn’t the one who had to be convinced, Justin was. 

“I just gave him what he wanted,” Emmanuel said. “I did what I had to.”

Realization crept onto Justin’s face, and Emmanuel fidgeted with his hands, wanting to continue his scribbles.

“Tell me you didn’t,” Justin sighed. “Tell me you didn’t whore yourself out.”

Emmanuel looked away and Justin took it as an answer. Even though he didn’t want to, and perhaps couldn’t, believe that Emmanuel had done such a despicable thing, it seemed to be the case. He felt a loss. Loss of breath? No, nothing that simple. Although his breath was staggering and uneven, it was due to the loss of recognition he was now experiencing in regards to Emmanuel. He couldn’t recognize the person in front of him anymore. Maybe it was his own fault for building up expectations that could not be fulfilled. Just like when he’d discovered the relationship between Emmanuel and Sanchez, there was this anger, this hurt, that he simply couldn’t explain. The story kept repeating, and it could only be his fault because he was expecting Emmanuel to be his, and that never turned out to be the case. Was he delusional?

“How could you be so stupid!” He yelled. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“What other choice did I have?” Emmanuel said, intent on not raising his voice. 

“We could have convinced him to put her up for adoption, or fought him in court,” Justin argued.

His arguments weren’t convincing and he knew that, but he wasn’t prepared for that situation. A situation in which he had to explain that sleeping with the enemy is a bad idea. 

“He’d never agree to that. You said it yourself, don’t underestimate him.” Emmanuel said, his voice still calm. “You weren’t there, he-”

“No I wasn’t there, and whose fault is that?” Justin hissed, cutting him off.

He should’ve been there. Should’ve been with Emmanuel, but he hadn’t been, because Emmanuel hadn’t considered his presence necessary, hadn’t wanted him there. He’d gone alone, and what signal did that send? Not a pleasant one.

“Right, I’m sorry,” Emmanuel exclaimed. “Is that what you want? For me to tell you that I’m sorry?”

Justin scoffed at Emmanuel’s remark. Saying sorry wouldn’t erase what he’d done, or make it any more forgivable.

“Your words are useless. You still went behind my back,” Justin said. “How do you know he’ll even keep his word?”

“He knows I’ll off him if he doesn’t,” Emmanuel answered.

Justin rubbed his forehead slowly with a frown, clearly troubled. He wanted to make a superficial argument based on the objective fault in what Emmanuel had done, mostly to mask the fact that his outrage was built on emotion. He wasn’t angry that Emmanuel had broken the rules, he was angry that Emmanuel had broken  _ his _ rules. 

“I get that you’re mad but-”

“Of course I’m mad!” Justin snapped. “I don’t know why you’re trying to play the hero all of a sudden. Whether it’s you getting attached to the kid, or that you see yourself and your own miserable, pathetic, messed up life in hers. It needs to fucking stop!”

Emmanuel tilted his head in confusion.

“I thought you wanted to help her,” He said. “Instead I’m the one looking out for her, and you’re doing nothing!”

“And you decided to whore yourself out. That’s exactly what Lynn was doing and how did that turn out? But I guess you’re willing to sleep with anyone. You never fail to disgust me. But you know what?” Justin spat. “I’m not putting up with your shit, and I’m not going to cover your ass when you screw up like you always do, you fucking slut.”

Emmanuel clenched his jaw, contemplating how he was going to spin this one. He stayed silent though. Heart steady even as Justin moved behind him, standing with his chest to his back. Pinning his wrists together, Justin lay a hand between his shoulder blades, bending him down over the desk. It was a slow movement, no resistance. Perhaps this way Emmanuel would understand.

“Do you have some kind of abuse complex?” Justin whispered, holding Emmanuel by the hair so that his forehead was resting against the surface. “I heard you like being done from the back.”

His tone and the position they were in was supposed to be demeaning, even humiliating. He needed for Emmanuel to resist, to prove him wrong. But he didn’t. Maybe he couldn’t. He simply let Justin have his way, and it was obvious that his leniency was limitless. There was no line, and Justin could do whatever he pleased had he wanted to. But he didn’t want it. Not like this.

The rift between them had grown, because they were no longer on the same page. Justin was convinced that Emmanuel would let anyone have him, and Emmanuel knew that the only reason he was submitting was because it was to Justin. They were both going out of their way to be something that only drove them further apart. 

“I know this doesn’t justify anything but,” Emmanuel started. “He already knew Avvie was his. That’s how he planned it. He was going to use her, sell her body. What was I supposed to do? The cost for her freedom was cheap. I’d rather it be me than her.” 

Justin stepped back, letting Emmanuel stand up straight, if only to make the point that they were done.

“I don’t regret it,” he added. “However I am sorry if it meant that I had to lose you.”

Justin looked at him, as if considering whether or not to forgive him, yet the hint of disgust in his expression told a different story.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at you the same…” 

And with that, Justin left.

***

The days went by faster than Justin would’ve prefered, and the memory of what had happened with Emmanuel seemed to fade. Avvie was quiet as usual, however when Emmanuel was around - which he consistently was - she appeared more engaged, and even cheerful. Justin found himself perplexed the more he discovered about her habits and features. Almost as if her body couldn’t keep up with her mental state, she carried a neutral expression even as red trails decorated her cheeks, from tears spilling out of her eyes that she paid no mind to. Almost as if she wasn’t aware that she was crying. This would happen more often than not, and so the lines seemed almost permanented. She looked like a normal child, but her nose was unnaturally pink, and her amber eyes were ominous. 

Emmanuel kept his hands unseen in his black leather gloves, unless he was holding Avvie’s hand. It became a habit, saving the warmth he collected for the child, wearing the gloves even inside, and no matter where he went. 

Until Avvie was eventually adopted. She left for the outside with the few possessions she owned, giving Emmanuel a shallow hug, as if they’d never really known each other. Of course, she’d never be able to comprehend the magnitude of the sacrifices Emmanuel had made for her. Justin found him on the rooftop, standing on the edge where he himself had stood. He walked up next to him, waiting till he spoke.

“I got attached,” Emmanuel scoffed. 

Justin nodded slightly, and after a while they both left the rooftop.

***

_ 2007 _

_ Teal eyes were fading beneath his tight grip around Emmanuel’s throat, and it seemed for a moment that he wouldn’t let go. Finally, when Emmanuel was about to stop struggling, Sanchez loosened his grip. He moved back swiftly, looking at his hands as if his mind had been disconnected from his body, while Emmanuel wheezed to get air back into his lungs.  _

_ “If you wanted to choke me, you could’ve said so.” Emmanuel half chuckled between coughs, rubbing the marks on his throat. “You even forgot to pull out before you came, that’s really something.” _

_ “I’m…” Sanchez stuttered, trying to make sense of his actions. “I didn’t mean to…” _

_ “I don’t discriminate if this is what turns you on, but a warning would’ve been nice.” Emmanuel laughed, seemingly having fun with the situation until he noticed the distress in Sanchez’ expression. “Hey, it’s okay.” _

_ “No, it’s not,” Sanchez answered. “This is what you’ve done to me.” _

_ “I’m pretty sure you were the one who strangled me,” Emmanuel scoffed.  _

_ “I had a normal life before you messed it up. You’ve destroyed my family, my wife can’t look at me. I always took your side, and look where that’s brought me.” _

_ “You took her side more than you took mine, that’s why I don’t have your last name. Besides, you knew who I was when you brought me in… what’s changed?” Emmanuel sighed, pulling on some sweatpants, sensing they were about to have an argument.  _

_ “I brought you in… it’s my fault, I’ll admit that.” Sanchez said, getting dressed as well. “Now I’ll have to take responsibility and clean up.” _

_ “Where is this coming from?” Emmanuel asked in disbelief. “Why are you saying these things all of a sudden?” _

_ They both paused in their movements for just a second, long enough for Emmanuel to realize. _

_ “You read her stupid book didn’t you?” Emmanuel asked, as Sanchez looked away, trying to defuse some of the tension, seemingly to no avail.  _

_ “Why now of all times?” _

_ “She knows about us,” Sanchez admitted. _

_ “She has for a while now,” Emmanuel chuckled. “She’s more observant than you give her credit for.” _

_ “I owed it to her,” Sanchez sighed. “And I’m starting to think she was right about you.” _

_ Emmanuel started buttoning his shirt, and Sanchez watched him quietly, as if waiting for him to snap.  _

_ “What did I do wrong?” Emmanuel asked calmly. _

_ Sanchez sighed, suddenly incapable of explaining the things he’d convinced himself of.  _

_ “Psyche (mind) and pathos (disease). Psychopath; mental illness.”  _

_ “Thanks encyclopedia, that helps a lot,” Emmanuel scoffed. _

_ “He can repeat the words and say he understands, and there is no way for him to realize that he does not understand. He enjoys having power over others, believing that guilt is only a mechanism to control people. People like him. Incapable of imagining what real humans experience. Indifferent to the rights and suffering of family members and strangers alike. Lying, deceiving, and manipulation are natural talents for a psychopath. Eager to attribute their faults and problems to childhood abuse.” _

_ “You memorized lines? What is the matter with you?” Emmanuel said. _

_ “Psychopaths seem to suffer a kind of emotional poverty, that limits the range and depth of their feelings. They can turn emotions on and off like a mere act, as if programmed. Emotional void, an inability to feel things like everyone else; to know when to cry and when to feel joy. Incomplete, shallow, largely cognitive in nature. Eager to save his own skin at any cost. He knows only the dictionary meaning of words, but fail to comprehend or appreciate their emotional value and significance. Seeing the world in shades of grey but has learned to function in a world of colors. Even those who know him well may not even know that he cannot see colors.” _

_ “That’s enough, I’m not interested in your stupid book.” Emmanuel said, getting increasingly frustrated. _

_ “To him, a word is just a word, there is no emotional meaning behind it. Like the word love. He knows what it means but not what it feels like, it’s just a description. Emmanuel how do you expect me to love someone who can’t love me back?” _

_ “You don’t actually believe that. You just want a reason to hate me for mistakes that you made. I didn’t cheat on your wife, you did!” _

_ Sanchez noticed how Emmanuel was fidgeting with his hands, undoubtedly wanting to scribble his notes, which meant that he was indeed getting under Emmanuel’s skin.  _

_ “He’s arrogant, egocentric, impulsive, and motivated by shallow goals like pleasure, power and temporary highs.” _

_ “Get out!” Emmanuel yelled, as Sanchez continued listing characteristics. “Just get out!” _

_ Things were moving too fast for him to deflect the blame or bend the argument to his favor, so he turned his back waiting for Sanchez to leave. However both of them just stood there in silence, until Emmanuel spoke. _

_ “This is exactly why I didn’t want you to read that book.”  _

_ “Because then I’d know who you really are.”  _

_ “Because now you see me as someone I’m not.” Emmanuel sighed. “You know, I always tried to be whatever pleased you, but I was never good enough. You’re just like her.” _

_ “Maybe that’s a good thing,” Sanchez said, looking up at Emmanuel. “Do you blame the sailor for being dragged under by the siren?” _

_ But maybe there was a way to reach the surface if he could convince Emmanuel to let go.  _

_ “I gave myself to you. I gave you what you wanted.” _

_ “But I wanted all of you, not just the anger and bitterness!” Emmanuel tried, knowing that there was no middle ground. “I wanted to wake up with you. Not the bruises you left on my skin, or this…” _

_ He carefully brushed his fingertips along his neck, hoping to make a point that would tip the scales. He hated the fact that he had to prove his humanity to the person who’d always been the recipient of what that entailed.  _

_ “Why do I have to carry the responsibility for the things we did? Why just me?” Emmanuel asked, using a voice he knew would pull at the strings of Sanchez’ sympathy. “You couldn’t decide if you wanted to be my dad-” _

_ “I’m not your dad,” Sanchez interrupted, knowing what Emmanuel was trying to do. “And you’re barely a person.” _

_ But as soon as he saw those teal eyes he suddenly doubted everything he’d said. Just like a trance he was swayed into believing he’d been unreasonable, and the things he’d learned no longer applied to Emmanuel. Was he indeed paranoid? If he showed Emmanuel compassion, would they both be better off? Would they both reach the surface? Perhaps he should’ve known that he’d never be able to go through with cutting Emmanuel off. He wasn’t done being drawn in, nor dragged under. _

_ “You’re right. I’m sorry,” Sanchez apologized. “I know you’re nothing like that.” _

_ Despite knowing he’d won, Emmanuel figured it wouldn’t be the end of that argument. Though as always, he couldn’t help his eyes from flickering that pleased icy silver. _

_ He had indeed won. _

***

They were sitting in the dim light, Emmanuel against the desk, and Justin leaning forward in his chair, with his arms resting on his knees. He somehow felt calm despite the circumstances. It gave his mind the opportunity to stray beyond the immediate threat. And coincidentally, that attention fell upon Emmanuel.

“What?” 

Justin blinked a few times, snapping out of his reveries. He supposed his gaze had followed the intent of his mind and wandered across Emmanuel’s features.

“I have a theory,” He mumbled. “It’s not about the investigation, but I thought that maybe you’d wanna know.”

His tone was exhausted, and effortlessly mundane. Perhaps he wanted his words to go unnoticed, or just put less weight on the meaning of them.

“Sure,” Emmanuel answered, subtly encouraging. “Go on.”

Justin took a few seconds to get his thoughts in order, knowing that he couldn’t waver in his certainty if he wanted his message to come across with credibility.

“I’ve tried feeling sorry for you,” Justin said, taking notice of Emmanuel’s strained expression. “When I read the book, you fit the profile so perfectly, but now somehow you don’t.”

Emmanuel looked at him, slightly puzzled, as though he hadn’t expected Justin to be manipulated that easily.

“I thought that maybe I was wrong, that maybe you’d come around. And you did, but… it was because of him,” Justin chuckled bitterly. “And I get it. You crave validation just like everyone else. So my theory is, you were brought up to be normal despite the fact that you’re not. And you think you have to make up for that, connecting material and intellectual worth with your right to existence. When you suffer failures you’ll start to question your worth, your leverage and essentially everything about yourself. You don’t know who you are without meddling in someone else’s life. You need for someone to need you. And he doesn’t need you anymore.”

Emmanuel maintained his perplexed expression, pretending as if he hadn’t had a similar discussion at one or more points in his life. 

“If I understand that correctly, you’re telling me I have daddy issues,” Emmanuel concluded.

Justin stared at him with a dumbfounded expression, raising an eyebrow in pure confusion.

“I’m pretty sure dating your dad means you have some daddy issues.”

“He’s not my dad. We’re not related, and we don’t even have the same last name.” Emmanuel said, shoving the subject away, as he usually and understandably did. “I have a theory of my own.”

Justin flashed him an intrigued glance, waiting for him to continue.

“You want to be a good person,” Emmanuel started. “Not for other people, but for yourself. You - like I - crave validation. You stack up objectively good deeds to better your self image, trying to comfort yourself with proof that you’re selfless and generous… when really your intent was to help you, and no one else. You’re only doing it to feel better about yourself. But no one’s going to question your motives, not the way they’d question mine.”

Justin scoffed, not sure what part he agreed with the least.

“If you’re trying to convince me that people discriminate against you-”

“This isn’t some scheme to gain your sympathy,” Emmanuel said. “I’m just saying… it must be nice to not have people expect the worst from you.”

Justin suppressed any further reaction that could be interpreted as condescending. He did agree to listen after all.

“What I do, I do for the people. I want to see this place change for the better, and that’s why I do this.” He answered.

“I believe that to some extent you do.” Emmanuel agreed. “Mostly, however, you’re not doing it for the people, you’re doing it for you and for your daddy. You want to be like him, and perhaps you have some daddy issues too.”

“That’s not-” Justin tried.

“Think about it like this,” Emmanuel cut in. “Are you giving to a charity because you’re invested in the cause or because you’ll feel better about yourself? You’re trying to live up to your dad’s expectation, you even said so yourself, and you believe you have to be a good and selfless person to do that.”

“But why is that not okay?” Justin basically whined, trying to explain himself. “It benefits everyone either way.”

Emmanuel smiled, satisfied with having gotten under Justin’s skin. 

“It is okay. The problem is that you don’t realize that you’re already good and selfless, for reasons unrelated to this thing you’re trying to do with the city.”

Justin sighed. He was seldom as annoyed to have a discussion as when he was having it with Emmanuel. They were silent for a while, until Justin remembered something.

“I forgot to say,” He started. “You only made an effort to improve our relationship, when you realized that your relationship with him was falling apart. And don’t get me wrong… I don’t want to be his replacement.”

Emmanuel sighed, probably not ecstatic talking about his relationship to Sanchez. Especially not after doing exactly that earlier in the conversation.

“I knew that my relationship with Pedro had already fallen apart long before I got here. It’s probably the reason I’m here in the first place. He wasn’t subtle about how I’d ruined his life.” Emmanuel answered. “You do have a point though. I need someone to need me, and he doesn’t need me. That doesn’t make you a replacement.”

Justin decided not to drag the conversation on, as it seemed more or less decent to end it there. However, as soon as he caught Emmanuel’s teal gaze, he was compelled to go on. To ask more questions, even stupid questions for them to remain like that just a little longer.

“We’ll figure it out,” Emmanuel said, raising an eyebrow as he realized that Justin wasn’t following. “The investigation.”

Justin nodded absently, getting lost in thought.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Emmanuel said. 

Justin didn’t answer, somehow contemplating every possible outcome in his head, before reacting any further. Emmanuel went for the elevator, and Justin knew he couldn’t conflict with himself much longer if he wanted to advance in his relationship to Emmanuel. Under the circumstances he worried that indecisiveness would signal rejection or disinterest, when really he was afraid of receiving those exact reactions from Emmanuel. In the end he couldn’t quite build up the nerve, still frozen in place, something very unlike him. He was suddenly so hesitant, which was never the case with any other aspect than Emmanuel. He could hear the elevator doors open, and he instantly threw all of his internal arguments in the ditch, leaping from his seat. Before entirely registering it, he found himself holding the elevator doors open, Emmanuel seemingly unsurprised, even as Justin stepped on.

“Mind if I join?” He asked, taking the chance.

“I don’t, actually,” Emmanuel answered, as the elevator went up. 

  
  


Justin followed Emmanuel into his room, taking note of the things he hadn’t seen before. Emmanuel had kept the office tidy, or at least relatively so. There were boxes of folders with files here and there, a bag of clothes in the corner, and on the desk lay a tie that he seemed to recognize. 

“He forgot it here,” Emmanuel said, noticing the way Justin was staring. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

Justin felt slightly agitated. Even when he’d gotten so far, Sanchez still seemed to have a substantial presence. One that Justin wasn’t able to fill.

“If you’re about to say that you don’t usually do this, then just spare me. We both know that’s bullshit.” Emmanuel said.

Justin knew that Emmanuel had a point. He’d done it for years, sleeping around with little regard for the consequences, not thinking or bothering to. But suddenly it was different. He was nervous and hesitant, trying to make excuses for why it wasn’t going exactly how it usually would. It was fairly obvious, however Justin didn’t really know how to explain it, even to himself. 

“I don’t usually,” He started, knowing he’d be regretting saying it, perhaps as much as he had the first time, so he went for a milder version. “Do this with people I care about… like that.”

Emmanuel looked strangely comforted by those words, but then suddenly didn’t.

“When I got back from the Mayor’s office... you said you’d never be able to look at me the same way again. Because I’m a ‘fucking slut’ right? So what changed?”

Justin chewed his lip, trying to think of a decent way to say that those things only counted when he wasn’t trying to fuck Emmanuel.

“I didn’t think we’d be having this discussion right now,” He said, leaning against the desk. “If I’d known-”

“You wouldn’t have asked to join me,” Emmanuel nodded. 

Justin was about to object, but realized that Emmanuel was probably right. 

“I did it for her. I may give off the impression that I’m a whore willing to sell my body at any price but, other than Pedro, I’ve never slept with anyone else,” Emmanuel said. “Until…”

Justin had never thought about it like that. He’d only considered what it had meant for him, and how it had made him sick to his stomach to think about how Emmanuel could’ve disregarded him like that. But he’d never thought about what Emmanuel had experienced. Sure it had been with his consent, but it had also been against his will.

“I know you did a selfless thing, and it was wrong of me to call you the things I did.” Justin answered. “I’m not saying that what you did was right, because it wasn’t. I was angry that you went behind my back, and that you’d do such a thing. I know it wasn’t about me, but I was hurt.”

“And I wasn’t?” Emmanuel scoffed, ignoring what had been said before that.

“That’s on you,” Justin answered sternly. “You made that decision. You’re responsible.”

Emmanuel didn't react much, probably expecting an answer like that. 

“I know,” He sighed. “I never said I wasn’t.”

Justin wanted to feel bad for him, but Emmanuel had brought himself into that situation. He clearly wanted to have his right to make independent decisions respected, and so Justin wasn’t about to tell him that it wasn’t his responsibility.

“Are you trying to say that you don’t take sex lightly?” Justin asked.

Emmanuel wasn’t surprised by the question, however the mention of what they were actually there to do wasn’t something that he was entirely prepared for.

“I don’t.” Emmanuel said. “Take the fact that you’ve gotten this far as a compliment.”

Justin chuckled slightly, sitting down next to him. He placed a hand on Emmanuel’s thigh, drawing circles with his thumb. It was unexpected. The way Emmanuel was suddenly so submissive made Justin wonder if he was always like that during sex. It contrasted strongly to his usual behavior.

“Undress,” He ordered.

Emmanuel obeyed, unbuttoning his shirt, while Justin looked on with fixated eyes. He let his shirt slide down his shoulders, and Justin’s expression quickly changed. He’d suspected as much when he’d seen Emmanuel in the showers, with just a glimpse of his back revealing a trail of scars, that at the time just seemed like a pattern of sorts. It wasn’t easy to overlook, and so he was certain that Emmanuel had caught him staring. But the fact that he didn’t say anything, probably meant that he preferred to gloss over it, and Justin wasn’t opposed to that. 

“Kiss me,” Justin said, unable to prevent a blush reaching from ear to ear.

He felt slightly embarrassed, but for once he wanted to be the one receiving the kiss, since up until that point he’d been the one to take that step, while Emmanuel had merely accepted it. He let his curls cover his eyes, feeling a sense of shame. There he was, wanting to care so deeply for someone he’d treated so poorly. He couldn’t help but stare at his hands as if they were somehow dirtied. He felt a slight nudge from Emmanuel’s lips against his cheek. A sweet, and light kiss. He placed another kiss, this time on Justin’s lips. Slow, careful and soothing. When Emmanuel started using his tongue, Justin felt the tingling sensation spread throughout his body, quickening his breath. His mind went blank, until there was nothing but Emmanuel’s lips on his. He had no idea a kiss could feel like that. Their tongues were teasing each other, tasting playfully. It was a timeless activity. Something they could occupy themselves with endlessly. However Justin wanted something more. The longer they kept going, the more he wanted Emmanuel’s lips somewhere else. He pulled at his hair, biting his lip, getting greedy. Emmanuel, sensing that Justin was at his limit, placed a hand between his legs. Justin gasped, slightly unprepared, as Emmanuel pulled away, focusing his attention exclusively on the part of Justin’s body that needed his attention the most. He knelt on the floor, between Justin’s legs, looking up at him from under his lashes. He leaned in, unzipping Justin’s pants with his teeth, and pulled down the layers, until he had a clear view. He licked his lips, while Justin waited patiently, letting Emmanuel do as he pleased, even though that included teasing him immensely. Emmanuel left searing kisses along Justin’s hips and thighs, causing him to hiss and moan, as precum started dripping onto his stomach. He reached down, but Emmanuel caught his wrist, pinning it to the sheet. 

“I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself,” Emmanuel said, apparently not as submissive as Justin had previously thought. 

“I-” Justin tried, but got cut off when Emmanuel started using his mouth, taking Justin roughly.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest so strongly it rang in his ears. He released a shaky breath, pulling at the sheets as he hissed slightly. Emmanuel had to hold his hips down, to prevent him from thrusting upwards. When Justin couldn’t have it his way, he grabbed the back of Emmanuel’s head, shoving him down hard till he could feel himself in the back of Emmanuel’s throat. He quickly realized that he was playing with fire, having acted on the high of lust. 

“I’m sorry-” He tried, but Emmanuel was already on top of him, eyes flickering.

“Is this how you fuck your girlfriends?” Emmanuel chuckled, voice low, and teal sparks in his gaze. “Is that what you want? To fuck me like a woman?”

He took Justin in his hand, stroking roughly, and biting his lower lip. Justin moaned against him, digging his nails into Emmanuel’s wrist. 

“You’re not,” Justin gasped, having trouble concentrating on anything but Emmanuel’s hand pleasuring him. “You’re not a woman.”

Emmanuel tightened his grip, and Justin whimpered trying to hold back his voice.

“Does that turn you off?” Emmanuel asked, kissing Justin’s neck.

“Do I seem turned off?” Justin scoffed, remembering the time Emmanuel had told him that he could be anything Justin wanted him to be. 

But of course, he couldn’t be a woman. Had Justin not made it clear that Emmanuel was his ideal? That no one could make him lose control like Emmanuel had?

“I want you,” Justin said, breathlessly. “I want this too.”

He put his hand between Emmanuel’s legs, sensing him respond to his touch. He could tell that Emmanuel had been hard for a while, feeling the wet material between his fingers.

“Did it excite you,” Justin whispered in his ear. “Teasing me like that?”

“You’re very adorable when you’re desperate,” Emmanuel answered, continuing to bite and tease the sensitive skin under Justin’s ear.

He gasped softly as he felt Justin’s fingertips running down his spine, and further… 

“There,” Emmanuel sighed, as Justin rubbed his entrance through the fabric.

He moved his fingers to Emmanuel’s lips which parted for him as he felt Emmanuel’s tongue curl around his fingers. When they were adequately wet, he pulled back, slipping his fingers into Emmanuel’s underwear, pausing.

“Can I?” He asked tentatively, brushing his lips against Emmanuel’s ear.

“Yes,” Emmanuel answered, straddling him.

Justin pushed the first finger inside, hearing Emmanuel groan slightly in response. He leaned his head against Justin’s shoulder, trembling at the pleasant sensation, focusing his attention on Justin’s fingers inside of him. He felt himself loosening up, heat traveling to his stomach as Justin was getting closer to his prostate. 

“Let me see your face,” Justin whispered, stroking Emmanuel’s hair.

He continued moving his hand, thrusting inside with his fingers, raising Emmanuel’s chin to see his expression. 

“That’s it,” He praised, noting how Emmanuel appeared so beautifully human with his features twisted in lust.

He leaned in, kissing Emmanuel slowly and gently. The kiss wasn’t selfish or shallow, but the result of need. Needing Emmanuel, and wanting to make him feel good, as good as he himself was feeling. Justin carefully appreciated Emmanuel’s body. The width of his hips, the way his skin was slightly tan, his sharp features and even the piercing teal glow in his eyes. Emmanuel was a simplistic kind of beautiful, yet in a way that was captivating, and sirenic. Justin knew that if he wasn’t careful, he’d indeed be drawn in, to the point of entrancement. 

“It’s not enough,” Emmanuel whimpered, making it clear what part of Justin he wanted inside of him.

Their breaths were hot, and quick on each other’s skin. Tangled up, limbs wet and sticky, surroundings becoming irrelevant. The position was deliberate. It was intimate, and meant for them to be just that. 

Emmanuel dug his nails into Justin’s back, clinging to him desperately, as Justin kissed his neck, occasionally digging his teeth into Emmanuel’s skin. He was writhing beneath Justin, sheets sticking to his skin, and jolts of pleasure surging up his spine. Justin held Emmanuel by the hips, taking handfuls of his thighs as he thrust deeper, clawing away at Emmanuel’s body as if it was his to take. And maybe it was. He ran his fingertips along Emmanuel’s sides closing around his back, accidentally grazing one of the many scars extending over his skin. He paused, suddenly very aware, and incapable of continuing at the same pace. Compelled to go gently as if Emmanuel would break. 

“Harder,” Emmanuel pleaded, taking notice of Justin’s shift in pace. 

Justin somehow couldn’t bring himself to obey, treating Emmanuel as a fragile element that would dissolve and run like water through his grasp. Yet the gentle rhythm was so insufficient, causing his member to twitch impatiently, demanding more. 

“Harder you fucking coward,” Emmanuel hissed into Justin’s ear.

Like the flip of a switch Justin finally snapped out of it. He thrust roughly, earning a shameless moan from Emmanuel, who arched his back as Justin thrust mercilessly into him.

“Say my name,” Justin demanded, remembering how it had stirred him up the first time he’d heard it from Emmanuel’s lips.

“Justin,” He moaned, tone desperate. “Justin.”

Emmanuel repeated his name, until his pleas were a mere string of whimpers and moans, cries of pleasure and gasps, making Justin light headed. He reached up for Justin, kissing him breathlessly. Justin admired the sight of Emmanuel writhing, and trembling beneath him. He started stroking his front as well.

“Come for me,” Justin ordered, hardly keeping it together himself.

“Justin,” Emmanuel cried out, climaxing so intensely he could hardly take it, to the point he thought he might faint.

It was almost too much, and his voice drowned out everything else as he convulsed with pleasure. He wasn’t a woman but in that moment he sure sounded like one. If he hadn’t already, he really would’ve lost his mind.

Justin followed his lead, trembling as he came inside before he had a chance to pull out, then collapsing on top of Emmanuel. 

“That was…” he smiled, trying to figure out the right words. “Absolutely perfect.”

Way too good.

He felt himself drifting off, as exhaustion washed over him, his head on Emmanuel’s chest, listening to the already steadying heartbeat. 

“You did well,” Emmanuel praised, stroking Justin’s hair away from his eyes, to discover that he was asleep. “Good boy.”

  
  



	9. Don’t leave

Justin opened his eyes, looking around as he remembered where he was. He lay half on top of Emmanuel, clinging onto him as if Emmanuel would’ve left had he not. Justin couldn’t help but stare. It seemed almost comical. When they’d met, none of them would’ve ever imagined reaching the point of trust where they could fall asleep in each other’s arms. Sex was one thing, it didn’t take much but lust, at least for him. Falling asleep in an embrace however, was pure and simple trust. There was significance in that. He observed Emmanuel, and the way his chest would rise and fall peacefully, then noticed the hickeys and bite marks decorating his neck. He ran his fingers over the swollen spots, wondering how long they’d linger. Emmanuel opened his eyes, wincing slightly at the soreness. As if on instinct he looked down at his wrists. No bruises. Even the old ones had faded. He looked further down. No blood. 

“What time is it?” He asked.

Justin quickly remembered that once people started showing up for work, it would be difficult getting to the showers, which would be necessary since they both needed to wash up. He reached over for his phone still on the desk.

“05.23,” He answered. “We’ve got about an hour.”

Emmanuel nodded, about to say something, when they heard noise from the other side of the door.

“No one's supposed to be here yet,” Justin mumbled, getting dressed quickly. “Wait here. I’ll check what’s going on.”

He opened the door slowly, scanning the area with his eyes. He stepped out, the floor cold beneath his feet, listening for the sound he’d heard before. He’d almost forgotten that the chief’s office was on the same floor, even though it had always been. 

“Lieutenant?” 

Justin flinched, looking straight into Merkel’s unamused expression. He smiled awkwardly, unsure of what else to do.

“You’re early,” He pointed out.

“And you’re not wearing any shoes,” Merkel answered, raising an eyebrow. “Care to explain?”

Justin was aware that any answer he’d be able to provide would make him look bad. It seemed that no explanation would be needed as he saw the chief’s expression change suddenly. It was a mixture of confusion and shock he’d never seen on her face before. Justin turned around to immediately find himself with the same expression. Emmanuel was standing in the doorframe, wearing only a white shirt, barely covering his thighs. He hadn’t bothered buttoning the shirt fully, exposing his collarbones. Justin knew that the countless hickeys told only one story.

“I’ll be in my office,” Merkel said, clearing her throat.

Justin sighed as she walked off, then turning to Emmanuel who appeared as neutral as ever. He couldn’t argue that Emmanuel looked absolutely stunning, standing there in almost nothing, making it hard for Justin to be mad.

“I thought I told you to wait,” He sighed, trying to keep his eyes on Emmanuel’s face and nowhere lower. 

“I did,” Emmanuel answered. “And then I didn’t.”

He lifted the shirt to reveal the fluid running down his inner thighs, and Justin suddenly regretted not having worn a condom.

“Is that…”

“Yours,” Emmanuel answered. “I’m heading for the showers to clean it up.”

He walked past Justin, getting on the elevator. “I know you like looking through my stuff so bring me some clothes while you’re at it.”

“Very funny,” Justin answered, although he probably would’ve done exactly that, had Emmanuel not mentioned it.

He went back to the office, picking out some clothes, and remembered that he didn’t have anything clean for himself. Emmanuel’s clothes wouldn’t fit him, so he supposed he’d just keep the clothes he was already wearing. 

When he entered the shower area, steam instantly surrounded him, almost like a wave. He spotted Emmanuel, standing under a stream of hot water, his hands busy cleaning off the mess they’d made. Scattered across Emmanuel’s body were those bite marks and hickeys, and the memory of leaving them there were playing on repeat in Justin’s mind. He started taking off his clothes, leaving them in a pile where the floor was still dry. If the clouds of pollution wasn’t strewn across the sky like a veil, the sun would have been pouring in from the windows lined under the ceiling. Justin suddenly realized that when the investigation was over Emmanuel would be going back to Washington. Even if he was reluctant to admit it, Justin felt a tinge of panic, rising steadily. He realized that he wasn’t ready for things to change. Even if he had previously wanted for Emmanuel to simply leave, the prospect now made his stomach ache, and his thought process spin out of control. Was he being too clingy if he wasn’t willing to move on? Was his feelings toward Emmanuel unreciprocated? He’d been so cautious, and in the end it had all led him to the same paranoid track that he so often found himself on. He didn’t want to need anyone so why was he suddenly so cornered by his own mindset? At that point all the color had drained from his face, and Emmanuel seemed to notice this, taking his hand and drawing him under the running water. He let Emmanuel take care of him, washing off the trails of sweat and residue, along with his worries of what would happen next. He was with Emmanuel in that moment and that was all that mattered.

***

Emmanuel sat down at the table, opposite of Morgan who appeared unhappy to be up early. Not that she had ever been otherwise, of course. Justin had plans to meet with Tsara about something unrelated to the case, but he wanted to know Emmanuel’s plans as well before he left.

“I’m about to head out,” He said, and explained, although Emmanuel already seemed occupied with something else. “What’re you going to do in the meantime?”

“I’m going to go through the case,” Emmanuel answered, opening a thick folder. “See if there’s something we’ve missed.”

Justin wasn’t about to oppose, so he simply leaned down and kissed Emmanuel. The action felt so natural, and even comfortable, he almost forgot that he really shouldn’t have done it. He had though, so there was nothing to do but play it off as completely intentional. He walked away, trying not to look back at everyone’s stunned faces. It was now Emmanuel’s responsibility to explain what had just happened. 

“I’ve got work to-” Leo stuttered as he nearly tripped, hurriedly disappearing into the other room.

Jacinda didn’t bother react much, picking up her coffee before joining the other technicians. 

“Well?” Morgan asked, clearly expecting an explanation.

She’d known Justin was ‘interested’ so to speak, in Emmanuel. However even she was surprised. Even though her relationship with Justin had been physical, Justin had never randomly kissed her. It simply wasn’t natural.

“I didn’t know he was going to do that,” Emmanuel said, not bothering to take his eyes off of his work. 

“But why did he?” Morgan asked, not satisfied with Emmanuel’s shallow response. 

“Well,” Emmanuel elaborated, turning a page in the folder. “We’ve been doing that quite a lot since yesterday.”

That only served to make Morgan even more curious. She’d known Justin for so long, and knew every aspect of his life. This was new and different, and she wanted to be a part of it. In her opinion Justin owed it to her. He wasn’t there though, so Emmanuel would have to fill her in instead.

“Did you…?” She asked with a teasing grin.

Emmanuel finally looked up from his work, clearly annoyed. It was none of her business and he had no intention of answering her question. Justin could do as he pleased, but Emmanuel wasn’t the type of person who would talk openly about such things. Her inquiry was that of something he wouldn’t deign a response.

“Do you love him?” She then asked, getting impatient.

“What kind of question is that?” Emmanuel snapped, taken aback by her straightforwardness.

“Well do you?” She persisted, pushy as ever.

She had to know. Needed to know. She didn’t trust Emmanuel, but she wanted to protect Justin. She was doing what she could, because she considered it to be her responsibility.

“I don’t know,” Emmanuel answered, knowing that she too would recognize the response as idle.

It wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t be sure. He barely even knew what qualified as love and if his relationship to Justin fulfilled those standards. Did it even matter though? He’d have to leave anyway. 

***

Justin waited for the elevator, standing next to Xavier. Sure he was panicking slightly. If he was lucky no one had noticed anyway. That theory was quite far fetched though. He turned his head smiling at Xavier, when something caught his eye. A silver butterfly pin on his collar. It was nothing new, since Xavier had always had that pin but somehow...

Where had he heard that before? Why did this cause his skin to crawl? Could this have been what Emmanuel was talking about? Perhaps he was being paranoid. He knew Xavier, and there was no reason to question him. After all they’d been friends for years, and the profile of the homicidal maniac could’ve never fit Xavier. There was simply no way. However… Emmanuel had mentioned seeing a silvery butterfly.

When Angel’s fingernails had been removed, they’d discussed it as Xavier was in the room, undoubtedly overhearing it. He would have had the clearance and knowledge to erase his steps and the evidence. 

If he’d been Angel’s client his name wouldn’t have showed up on the client list since he was with the department, and no one from the department was on the list. He could’ve stayed under the radar since he’d know everything they did and all the progress and plans. He’d had the resources and skills to create the chemical, while never being a suspect himself. He’d know exactly how to carry out the actions of the person they’d been tracking. 

When Justin had seen him at the warehouse his mind had chosen to forget him. Had erased Xavier from his memory. Perhaps to protect him from information that he couldn’t accept. There was no mistaking it though. He’d been chasing someone who’d been at his side all along, and that stung so terribly. His hands were shaking, and he flinched as the elevator doors opened. He was basically unraveling as he decided to turn around, needing to tell someone. Anyone. Xavier undoubtedly knew that Justin now had that information, but he simply acted as he usually would. Justin didn’t dare look back. 

“Did you forget something?” Morgan asked, as Justin stumbled towards their table.

Emmanuel could tell that something was wrong. Justin was visibly shaken up, hands quivering and breath unsteady. 

“It’s Xavier,” Justin panted, as his eyes darted between them.

“Did something happen to him?” Morgan asked, standing up from where she was seated. “Justin what happened?”

“Xavier’s the killer,” Emmanuel said, making the same revelation that Justin had. 

“I’ll get his pass revoked,” Morgan answered, instantly headed for the chief’s office, understanding that Emmanuel and Justin would have to go after him.

And so they did.

***

Justin tapped his fingers along the surface of the metal side, wishing that the elevator would descend faster. He looked at Emmanuel who for his part seemed relatively calm, which only served to unnerve Justin even further. When the doors opened, Justin was out first, sprinting across the underground parking lot, with Emmanuel right behind him. The sound of tires screeching filled the entire parking lot, and an engine roaring in protest to the swift change in gears rang through the air. Xavier was heading for the exit, and Justin had to force his attention to the car he himself would be driving. He got into the driver's seat, stepping on the clutch and starting the engine as Emmanuel got in on the other side. He pushed down the handbrake, and switched into reverse, then first gear. As soon as the car was in motion, he quickly accelerated and switched to second gear. 

“Seatbelt,” Emmanuel said, as they neared the exit.

“I’m a little busy,” Justin hissed, switching to third gear. 

Emmanuel promptly leaned over grabbing the seatbelt, while Justin steered with one hand as he let Emmanuel strap him in. The hill of the exit acted as a ramp, elevating the car above ground slightly, and Emmanuel put a hand to the roof of the car as he got himself strapped in again. 

“Turn right,” Emmanuel said, pointing to Xavier’s car ahead of them to the right.

Justin made a swift turn, counter steering to make the rear of the car slide outwards, going into second gear to gain traction as he accelerated out of the drifting motion. Both cars were having trouble getting forward due to the heavy traffic, and even swerving through the gaps seemed almost impossible because of the tight space.

“He’s headed for the border?” Justin speculated, keeping his eyes glued to Xavier’s vehicle.

“Why would he do that if he knows his pass has been revoked?” Emmanuel argued, looking in the rearviewmirror instinctively.

“Where else would he go then?” Justin asked, knowing that Xavier had nowhere to go.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Emmanuel answered.

They soon found themselves on the highway, going 70 mph, with less restriction from other traffic. Justin turned the wheel, swerving past a cobalt car, and knocking off one of the mirrors. The driver of the car honked at them but Justin didn’t bother looking back, his attention already somewhere else.

“What’s he doing?” Justin asked, referring to Xavier who crossed the curb in the middle of the road, onto oncoming traffic. “We’ll lose him.”

Emmanuel shoved the wheel to Justin’s astonishment, turning the car towards the curb, and the traffic on the other side of the road.

“What the hell are you doing?!?” Justin hissed, trying to gain control of the wheel, wanting to slap Emmanuel’s wrist to make him let go. “If we hit any of those cars, not to mention a truck, we’ll be dead!”

Emmanuel didn’t seem to care, using both hands to turn the car, until they were on the opposite side, driving towards the oncoming traffic. Justin tried stepping down on the brake, but Emmanuel moved over, pinning Justin’s leg with his own so that he could only reach the throttle. Justin would have tried to struggle but he was too busy dodging the traffic, knocking off more mirrors, and losing one of his own as well.

“He’s taking the exit on the left,” Emmanuel said, pointing to where Xavier was performing a pendulum turn, seeing as the exit wasn’t meant for cars coming from the opposite side of the road. 

He wondered if Justin would be able to do the same, having less distance and time to drift.

“Use the handbrake when you turn,” Emmanuel said, getting back into his usual position in his seat, allowing Justin to have full control of the car again.

Taking the exit would be the fastest and most sensible way to escape the oncoming traffic if he wanted to continue following Xavier, and he decided to mirror the pendulum turn, even if there was less space for him to do so. Approaching the upcoming turn, he steered sharply towards the outside of the turn, lifting off of the throttle and lightly applying the brakes. Instead of sliding backwards into position, the car skidded across the asphalt, the rear crashing into the railing of the road. 

“Why didn’t you use the handbrake?” Emmanuel asked, confused.

Justin got into first gear, getting the car into motion again, quickly gaining speed and shifting gears till he was back at the previous pace.

“If I’d done that we would have rolled over and gone over the railing,” Justin explained, following Xavier towards the bridge.

“Not if you’d done it correctly,” Emmanuel scoffed, earning an irritated look from Justin.

They drove onto the bridge, and Justin would’ve done the pit maneuver, had Xavier not stuck a hand out of the window, clutching something between his fingers.

“Is that-” Emmanuel gasped, unconsciously leaning back in his seat.

“A grenade? How the hell did he get a grenade?!” Justin hissed, about to step down on the brake, then realizing that he wouldn’t be able to stop the car before-

Xavier threw the grenade backwards, hitting the middle of the bridge in front of them. The ground started shaking with the explosion, quivering until the pavement cracked. Debris flew in every direction, hitting the windshield, and the rest crumbled beneath them while dust and smoke filled the air. It was impossible to see anything, but both Justin and Emmanuel could tell that the bridge was about to collapse. Before the ground disappeared, Justin turned sharply using left foot braking then releasing the brake full throttle, revving up the engine to accelerate rapidly, causing a slingshot effect as he used the curb as a ramp. The car elevated above ground, flying through the dust as the bridge collapsed. The vehicles behind them descended, and Justin forced himself to focus on the road ahead. When the windshield was cleared, the scene that emerged was even more chaotic. The car was about to hit the remaining asphalt, downhill from the bridge, where Xavier was driving ahead of them. They pushed their heads against the backrest to avoid whiplash as the spinning wheels made contact with the road, slinging the car forward, right into Xavier’s car that in turn crashed into the concrete wall of a building in front of them. Both vehicles were now still, and Justin and Emmanuel were left panting as they processed what had just happened. The silence was suddenly deafening, and nothing but the sound of their uneven breaths could be heard. 

“Nice save,” Emmanuel said, looking at the rubble behind them.

Justin simply nodded, getting out of the car. He walked carefully with his gun raised towards the driver’s seat. Emmanuel was behind him, his gun raised as well. Justin was about to open the car door, when the vehicle set into motion again. It was surprising that Xavier had even survived the crash, but even more so that the car, despite the heavy damages, was still able to start. 

“I’m driving this time,” Emmanuel said, already getting into the car.

Justin got into the passenger's seat, trying to catch a glimpse of Xavier who was closer than he’d been before the crash. He looked at Emmanuel’s hands, shifting the gears, and noted how Emmanuel was more swift and elegant in his movements than Justin was. 

“He’s heading for the U-turn up ahead,” Emmanuel said, as they picked up speed again. “If we take the alley on the left we’ll be able to cut him off.” 

Justin spotted the alley Emmanuel was referring to, instantly choking on his own objection. 

“It’s- it’s too narrow, and the turn is too sharp!” Justin laughed in absurdity. “Emmanuel don’t be fucking stupid.”

“Seatbelt,” Emmanuel warned, having already decided.

He let go of the wheel as he strapped himself in, looking over at Justin to make sure he was wearing a seatbelt as well, then checking the mirrors. Justin was about to protest, when Emmanuel pulled the handbrake, locking the rear wheels and breaking friction between the tires and the road, sliding outwards until the car was standing up on the two right wheels. He balanced the car, keeping it on two wheels, while driving into the narrow alley between two buildings. Justin kept his eyes on the window which showed the ground, and prayed that distance would remain between the side of the car and the pavement. The seatbelts were keeping them in place, even if they were sideways. When they got out on the other side of the alley, Emmanuel turned the wheel downhill to get the car down on all four tires again. It turned out his movements wouldn’t be needed as the hood of Xavier’s car crashed into the roof of their car, knocking it down on all four again. Xavier simply turned, and Emmanuel followed, once again driving onto another highway. 

“He’s heading back under the bridge,” Emmanuel concluded, approaching the rubble, and sea of cars buried beneath it. “He’ll have to stop or…”

Xavier made a swift turn, joining the oncoming traffic, and heading back the other way. Emmanuel promptly did the same, kicking the clutch and revving up the engine, shocking the wheels into breaking traction, getting it sideways into a 180 hairpin turn. The road was practically empty since the collapsed bridge was blocking the road, and the cars that were on the way back, had made a U-turn, driving slowly, making it easy for Emmanuel to swerve through them. He was getting closer to Xavier, deciding to make a pit maneuver. When he got close enough he drove the left front of the vehicle to the right rear of Xavier’s vehicle, turning and accelerating, spinning him away from oncoming traffic. 

“Please let this be the end…” Justin sighed, as Xavier’s car crashed into an empty building at the side of the road.

Emmanuel pulled up at the totaled car, waiting to make sure that it wouldn’t start back up again. The engine remained off, and he and Justin sat still, until they determined that it was safe to step out. 

“He’s not here,” Emmanuel said, looking through the empty car, then at Justin.

“He’s probably inside,” Justin answered turning towards the empty building. “Let’s go.”

***

They entered the empty building, and even though he was reluctant to let Emmanuel out of his sight, Justin had to focus his attention elsewhere. There wasn’t much to see. The surroundings were very similar to those of the warehouse, where he’d confronted Xavier the first time, not knowing that it was him. It was surreal, but Justin had no incentive to disregard the reality of what was happening. It became clear though, that Emmanuel wasn’t the one he’d have to worry about, as he felt an arm, coming from behind and wrapped around his throat. There was a stinging edge pressed against his skin, threatening to break through the surface, and he dropped his gun reluctantly. Emmanuel turned his own gun to where Xavier was holding Justin steadily in place with the threat of the needle to his vein. 

“Why are you doing this?” Emmanuel asked, hoping that he could distract Xavier, or in the very least prolong the time Justin had to escape his grasp.

“You don’t get it? Really?”Xavier laughed hysterically, hand shaking but the needle steady at Justin’s neck. “It’s a cleanse.”

Emmanuel knew what Xavier was about to say. He needed to hear it though. To justify what he was about to do.

“All of these people are useless! Worthless! They’re parasites. Tumors on society and our nation and we’re better off when they’re eradicated. All we’ve been doing so far is watching these impure entities spread, while the solution was obvious. I created this chemical to cure us. When the proposal was being considered in Congress I knew that I had to act.”

He stroked Justin’s hair slowly. Gently. Nurturing in his own sick way, and Justin couldn’t do anything but simply take it.

“I didn’t want to use it on you, or… Angel.” Xavier exclaimed, blood and sweat dripping from his forehead. “But you wouldn’t listen even if I wanted you to.”

The mention of Angel had Justin’s veins flaring, burning beneath his skin.

“Why Angel?” He asked, finding it difficult to keep still.

“I thought she’d understand. I tried to spare her but-”

“She would’ve never supported your sick fantasy!” Justin hissed, trying to vindicate her since she wasn’t there to do so herself. “She would’ve wanted you to burn in hell!”

“Quiet,” Xavier scoffed, grazing Justin’s skin with the needle, causing Emmanuel to tighten his grip of the gun. “I wanted- no, I needed her to share my vision. She had to die because she couldn’t. She thought I was crazy, just like you now do.”

“You had no right!” Justin snapped, digging his nails into Xavier’s wrist. “Her life wasn’t yours to take!”

He was still grieving, and the truth was hard to accept. He was shaking with anger, because someone had to pay for what he’d lost. Xavier was that someone, and Justin needed him to suffer what Angel had. It took every shred of composure he had not to lose it right then and there.

“She fulfilled a purpose. I knew the drug was successful when it made her do exactly what I wanted her to. She devoured her own flesh. There is nothing more beautiful.” Xavier smiled, reliving it. “Emmanuel knows what I’m talking about.”

This caught both him and Justin off guard. Emmanuel really wasn’t fond of the way Xavier was using his name so casually under those circumstances, and he could feel a reactionary frown form on his face. 

“It sounds like you’ve been taking Nietzsche too literally,” Emmanuel scoffed, determined to ignore what Xavier was trying to infer. “I’m not in favor of eugenics, or the slaughtering of innocent people for that matter.”

Xavier chuckled, though looking strained that his arguments were being written off as mere immoralities. He’d hoped to find an ally in Emmanuel, seeing as they were both outcasts.

“I’m simply taking out the trash,” He said, grinning widely. 

“The trash you’re referring to are called human beings. Who the fuck are you to decide who lives and dies?” Justin growled. “The only trash here is you.”

While Emmanuel mostly agreed, he needed Justin to stop provoking Xavier since after all he did have a needle to Justin’s throat, and nothing but his life to lose, which arguably they all knew he wasn’t going to keep either way. 

“What about Lynn?” Justin asked, needing answers to one of the many questions that remained unclear. “Why did she have to die?”

Xavier tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating. The fact that he had to even think about it, was something that made Justin even more aggravated. The outright negligence with regard to human life that Xavier was displaying wasn’t something that Justin encountered very often. 

“I had to prevent the cancer from spreading,” Xavier answered. “It bothered me immensely that she was producing offspring. Parasites like her shouldn't breed.”

Emmanuel simply stared at him, unamused. He could tell that Justin was about to snap, and even he felt slightly irked. 

“I’d really hoped it wouldn’t come to this but…” Xavier sighed, as if coming to terms with the situation.

Emmanuel wasn’t sure what was about to happen, however Justin’s face told an irrefutable story. The needle had already penetrated his vein, and Xavier was injecting the chemical into him. Emmanuel didn’t hesitate, pulling the trigger and hitting Xavier between the eyes that quickly went unfocused as he met his inevitable demise. Both he and Justin hit the ground simultaneously.

***

From the contents remaining in the syringe, Emmanuel could tell that Justin had only been injected with a shallow amount of the drug. This wasn’t very helpful however, since he had no idea how Justin’s body would react to even a minimal dosage. His first assessment was that Justin simply appeared to be drowsy, and so Emmanuel had done what Justin had for him; called Shinzo, and held him as he trembled and convulsed. It was quiet, other than the slight panting and restless heaving. Crimson filth gathered under Justin’s nails as his fingers cramped up, scratching the ground beneath them. Emmanuel remembered how he himself had felt when he’d been injected. How he was mostly paralyzed, with the involuntary twitching of his muscles and the feverish wave running throughout his entirety. He knew that it was painful, and he could tell that Justin was scared. There wasn’t much he could do to pacify this fear, but he hoped that the warmth of his body could provide some sense of security. He wasn’t good at this. He didn’t know what to do or say, and he couldn’t be what Justin needed him to be in that moment. 

“Don’t leave me…” Justin whimpered, snapping Emmanuel out of his internal conflicts.

It was obvious that Justin wasn’t entirely conscious, but slurring his words through a veil of delirium. He was saying what had torn through the surface, and allowed him to keep a grip of the cognizant that still remained; his need for Emmanuel to be there.

“I won’t,” Emmanuel answered, as though it wasn’t obvious. 

But Justin needed to hear it, even as he was slipping in and out of consciousness, this worry seemed to prevail. 

“You’re okay,” Emmanuel said, not sure of where those words had come from.

Justin wasn’t okay, but it was all Emmanuel could say, and he didn’t know why. It was as if the words had been dug up from somewhere in his memory, and they seemed too crucial to ignore. He needed to believe it himself. He’d survived and Justin would too… right? He’d get better just like Emmanuel had. 

“Don’t leave,” Justin repeated, trembling violently, as his face contorted into something of a person in excruciating pain.

“Justin listen to me,” Emmanuel said, holding Justin tightly to signal that he was indeed there, and not going anywhere. “I’m not going to leave you.”

He continued kissing Justin’s forehead, whispering words of subtle affection, to the best of his ability. He cradled him like something deeply precious, telling himself that it was simply what anyone would have done in that moment. He brushed the damp hair away from his eyes, and the long lashes, his touch lingering at Justin’s cheek.

This seemed to put Justin at ease. His muscles relaxing, and his expression benign, just like had he been sleeping. He released a peaceful breath, suddenly limp.

Emmanuel recognized that this wasn’t supposed to be so. That last breath was peaceful for a reason.

Because Justin had stopped breathing. And his heart had stopped beating.

***

_ 2020 _

_ Sanchez raised his head, diverting his gaze from where it was planted in his drink, to the heels approaching him. _

_ “Angela,” He greeted, kissing each of her cheeks. _

_ She was wearing a dark green satin cocktail dress, draping her body perfectly. She sat down beside him at the bar, ordering a drink of her own, as she admired the skyline. _

_ “It’s been a while,” She said. “What do you want?” _

_ She got straight to the point, just as she was known for, and Sanchez had expected as much. _

_ “Skipping the small talk I see,” He chuckled. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” _

_ Even though they were old friends it wasn’t often they got to talk, let alone doing it in person. He supposed that was how she knew he needed a favor. _

_ “I heard you’re down a few men,” He said. “What if I offer you some assistance?” _

_ She scoffed lightly, a clear indication that he was correct, and that she would’ve been interested had i not been because… _

_ “You slept with him,” She concluded, nodding to herself. _

_ A stark conclusion nonetheless, with a row of details she could not possibly have known, yet led her to the finding of such intricate a concealment that quite possibly she’d be the only one keen enough in her evaluation to discover it. As to be expected from her.  _

_ “You’re quick,” He answered, because indeed, she was. _

_ He felt a tinge of shame, but didn’t let it reach his expression, keeping it neutral. There was no room for judgements, nor his own. Overcaution wouldn’t serve him either, since her patience with his secrecy had a limit to it as well. Did he have the audacity to string her along with tainted bait? Surely not.  _

_ “Then what?” She asked. “Your wife found out, and now you need to get rid of him?” _

_ “Not quite,” He admitted. “it’s been going on for a while. My wife says she couldn’t care less but… in any case, it’ll only be temporary. I just need space and some time to repair the damage while he’s gone, so that I can cut him off completely.” _

_ She could tell that he was in distress. However, she wasn’t convinced just yet. _

_ “You think he’ll willingly join my force?” She asked, knowing he’d probably considered it for a while, having a solution for any possible objections she may have had. _

_ “He’s ambitious. If his promotion depends on it, he’ll do it.” _

_ She was still skeptical, but considering her own position and need for additions to her force, she was increasingly tempted. _

_ “Although I find it disagreeable that you’re using him as a pawn, while you clean up a mess that is of your own making… I’d never let an opportunity like this go to waste.”  _

_ He gave her a grateful smile, and she gave him a reassuring nod in return.  _

_ An agreement had been reached. _

***

Emmanuel had lost track of how long he’d been doing it. Over and over. Compression after compression, and to no avail, because Justin was dead. That wasn’t a valid reason to stop though, and it wasn’t a valid reason to give up. He’d quickly lost his temper, because Justin had begged him not to go, and now he himself had left. Emmanuel wasn’t about to accept that, and certainly not without any resistance.

So he kept going.

Hissing with every chest compression, since every compression was another unsuccessful one that failed to give Justin life. His hands were unhealing and his movements unreviving. It was a repetitive action that brought him no closer to seeing Justin’s eyes looking into his again, how sappy that may have been. His arms were losing strength, furthered by the fact that his attempts were failing, and the prospect of awakening continuously slipping away. His lungs stung like liquor in an open wound, the more he heaved, demanding alleviation of this burden.

But he kept going.

Even as his muscles were aching in protest, and the oxygen in his lungs was insufficient; 

He kept going. 

And there was no response. Just the lifeless body beneath his fingertips. Had Emmanuel been someone else would Justin have come back? It was an irrational thought but he couldn’t help but wonder. Was his voice not the one to which Justin would respond? He wasn’t willing to let that be the case, but there he was; being himself and not being enough.

“Move over.”

But he kept going, because he wasn’t ready to stop, nor would he ever forgive himself if he did. So he kept going. Until there was a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to focus. His vision was unclear, and shaky but he could tell that it was Shinzo. 

“I’m not done,” Emmanuel growled, persisting in his useless movements. “I’m not-”

“I know,” Shinzo said, looking into the fading teal of his eyes. “You need to let me work though.”

But he kept going. Because he had to. There was no choice, and nothing else on his mind. The only thing he knew was that he had to keep going.

“Emmanuel you need to trust me,” Shinzo tried, laying a cold hand on Emmanuel’s cheek which was burning up. “You did your part, now let me do mine.”

Emmanuel finally nodded, letting Shinzo work as he heaved for the oxygen that he desperately needed. It almost hadn’t occurred to him that his own body was about to shut down. Had he fainted then Justin wouldn’t have had much use of him either way.

“He didn’t receive enough of the drug to enter into the second stage of the effect,” Shinzo explained, getting a syringe ready, containing a fluid that Emmanuel didn’t recognize. “He experienced the first stage which was the slowing down of his respiratory system, and since the adrenaline of the second stage never set in, he went into cardiac arrest.”

“How do you know?” Emmanuel panted, his eyes glued to the large syringe. 

“I don't,” Shinzo answered, tapping the syringe, to get rid of the pockets of air. “But I’m going to inject adrenaline into his heart and we’ll see if my theory is right.” 

Emmanuel simply stared as Shinzo dug the needle into Justin’s chest, injecting the adrenaline. The fluid went in, and the needle was extracted, as silence ensued. Emmanuel looked up at Shinzo, trying to keep his patience from running thin, but it already had. He waited. He hoped, prayed, begged and everything in between, that this wasn’t it. Something had to happen, and it had to happen now. But nothing did and they simply sat there, completely still. So that was it huh? 

Justin was dead.

Emmanuel started laughing. He didn’t know why but he couldn’t stop. Shinzo simply observed him as the laughter grew more hysterical, and the smile widened beyond the limits of sanity.

“Who gave you permission to die!” Emmanuel yelled, slapping Justin across the face. “Justin!”

And finally. As if he’d heard Emmanuel and decided to obey. As if the mention of his name had broken through the constraints of death. Justin did what he was supposed to do all along.

He breathed.

And it was hard, and painful, but nevertheless;

He kept going.

***

Justin opened his eyes, instantly regretting it as he became aware of the soreness that burdened his being. He didn’t remember much of what had happened after he’d lost consciousness, other than the sound of Emmanuel’s voice. Specifically; Emmanuel saying that he wouldn’t leave. Yet from what his blurry vision allowed him to see, Emmanuel was nowhere in sight. He recognized the room though. It was where they’d set up the improvised ICU. He’d never expected to end up there himself though, and it seemed terribly ironic. He tried lifting his fingers, and to his relief, with luck. 

“Look who's awake,” Morgan smiled, taking his hand as she saw it moving.

Justin caught her eyes, and tried to make his own gaze focus. He was instantly hit with a towering headache, making his ears ring slightly.

“Where’s Emmanuel?” He asked, having only that thought in his mind. 

“I’m gonna try to not take that personally,” Morgan answered, with an exaggerated sigh. “He was here until you started waking up.”

“How long was I out?” Justin asked, suddenly having more questions than he had time to ask. “Where did Emmanuel go?”

He tried sitting up, and Morgan helped him, even as she’d rather have him stay resting.

“You were out for barely a day, or do you mean when you died?” She answered, and Justin appeared completely unfazed by the mention of his death, whether or not he’d been aware of its occurrence. “Emmanuel said something about needing to pack, so-”

Justin flinched instantly, pulling wires off of his body, much to Morgan’s surprise. He had to get up, and it seemed his body agreed since it didn’t offer much resistance. The soreness was there, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with. He had more urgent matters to attend to. 

  
  


He entered Emmanuel’s room, watching him pack up his things. It was everything he’d hoped to never be faced with. Somehow it was even more painful than he’d imagined, almost impossibly so. Emmanuel had told him that he didn’t take sex lightly. But now he was just going to pack up and undo their ties, like a one night stand? Emmanuel realized that Justin was there, his expression indicating that he wasn’t fond of having Justin up and about so soon after what had happened. Nevertheless he turned back to what he was doing, ignoring Justin’s presence, as if it wasn’t a significant strain on his focus.

“That’s it?” Justin asked, wondering if his bitterness would end up pushing Emmanuel away, when despite his frustrations it was the last thing he wanted. 

But how would a bitterness so obvious not sear like acid through whatever civility had connected them until then? Perhaps it had never existed, thus leaving no defense of their fragile bond, now deteriorating. There was no doubt that they were complacent, but to what extent? If the evaporation was inevitable, there was no point in trying to salvage the - would they dare call it? - devotion.

“What did you expect?” Emmanuel sighed, hoping that his apparent detachment would serve to separate them before his words could. 

“Did none of this mean anything to you?” Justin asked, trying to make sense of the situation though there was no sense to be found. “Do you not feel anything?”

“You don’t know what I’m feeling,” Emmanuel scoffed, as he continued packing. “We’re not a couple.”

The truth of the statement was striking. Justin wasn’t willing to let that be the case though. 

“Things like meeting the parents, I’m already halfway there,” he chuckled bitterly. “I’m pretty sure I died in your arms. Is that not a bonding experience?”

“That’s not funny,” Emmanuel said.

“We had sex,” Justin tried, knowing that Emmanuel would have to contradict himself if he dismissed that as an argument. 

“We had sex so now you know my life story?” Emmanuel scoffed, though he recognized that there was no denying his sudden change in position.

Justin had been everything he’d wished from Pedro, even more naive. Indeed, it was almost too easy. Could it really be? Justin had been tentative to his needs at every step, though never to his own. And now he was being dragged under. Blinded by the song of the siren.

“I told you…” Justin said, struggling with his words as he remembered how they’d felt the first time he’d said them. “I told you that I was in love with you.”

He could tell that Emmanuel was affected by the words too, not the way he’d been the first time, because now there was obligation attached to them. He wasn’t in control anymore. Even putting himself in a vulnerable situation, Justin had managed to make him the fragile one.

“I don’t believe you,” Emmanuel answered, trying to drain the words of meaning, even though, yes, the words beamed with meaning.

“And you slept with me anyway?” Justin asked, seeing through his lie. “I was certain that sleeping with me meant that you felt the same way.”

“What do you want me to do?” Emmanuel asked, not bothering to stand his ground, only curious as to how Justin intended to fix them, and what he wanted from Emmanuel. Who was manipulating who?

“Stay,” Justin blurted out, knowing that the word had been on the tip of his tongue since before he’d entered the room. 

Now was the moment they’d figure out whether or not the frail constraints would persist, though even if they didn’t; Justin would.

“What?” Emmanuel chuckled, instantly quiet as he realized that Justin was serious, and that he wasn’t about to let Emmanuel go that easily.

“Justin,” He warned, taking a step back, not sure if it was to protect Justin or himself, only sure that he needed there to be distance between them. “I’ll ruin your life. I’ll ruin  _ you.  _ I told you who I am and if you aren’t running away then you must have not been listening.”

“I listened,” Justin insisted, “I want you. I want this.” And Emmanuel could tell that he meant it with an almost disagreeable determination, that would go unmatched.

But so what if he meant it? There was no guarantee, no safeguard to protect them. 

“You’re going to regret this,” Emmanuel said, keeping his eyes locked with Justin’s. “You’re going to regret us.”

“You don’t know that,” Justin said, trying to take a step towards him but Emmanuel put up his hand, making it clear that getting any closer would be crossing a line. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.”

He knew that it was unfair to use Emmanuel’s own words against him, but he was desperate, clinging on to any insurance he had left. Being unfair was a privilege he afforded himself now that he had no other armament. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Emmanuel sighed, but his voice told a different story; that perhaps he’d meant it, and not just in that temporary moment.

“What do you have to lose?” Justin asked, with pleading eyes, saturated even more intensely than Emmanuel’s teal ones, and not just in color. “Why won’t you give this a chance?”

“I have!” Emmanuel answered, momentarily losing grip of his own composure. “I gave in, and you died! There’s no guarantee that something like that won’t happen again. I have to let you go on my own terms.”

How had he managed to screw up so badly? It was unlike him to let the situation get out of hand, but he had. There was nothing else to do now but pull away, and distance himself from Justin. On his own terms. Always on his own terms.

“Give me one good reason why we can’t make this work even if it means making sacrifices.” Justin tried, his chest tightening with every second Emmanuel was pulling away.

It was more than just a few sacrifices. At least a thousand, differing in magnitude, and taking form in burdens and compromises where neither could afford to give concessions. 

“You think I want to go back?” Emmanuel scoffed, avoiding his gaze. “Go back to my empty apartment, knowing he’s with the family I’m no longer a part of. With his wife. Swallowing my pills while keeping quiet even as everyone at work laugh and scowl at me. It’s absolutely humiliating. But that’s what I am, a joke. The office whore sleeping with my boss, but alone whenever my body isn’t needed. I’m a homewrecker, a parasite, an intruder, and all I have to show for my life are these ugly scars on my back!” Emmanuel snapped, holding up his hands as if to protect himself. “You deserve better.”

He’d been so intent on presenting himself as someone in control, someone deserving of respect. He hadn’t wanted Justin to see him so weak and pathetic. He hadn’t wanted to let anyone know that his polished facade was just that - an act.

Justin didn’t know what to say, tears stinging in his eyes. He realized that he wasn’t crying for himself but for Emmanuel. They now shared Emmanuel’s pain, his loneliness and Justin was determined to help him carry that burden, even if it was too heavy to bear. 

“Then stay,” Justin insisted once again, this time more persistent. “You said you wouldn’t leave-”

“You’re not entitled to have me!” Emmanuel yelled, teal eyes blazing. “I waited more than ten years, finally realizing that I was ‘the other’ while he was sharing his bed with the person he actually loves. I can’t go through that again. I won’t be abandoned again. I ended up ruining the person who was supposed to save me. I can’t ruin you too. Justin I’m scared.”

Scared?

It was a feeling he didn’t recognize, didn’t know nor understand. It was making his hands shake, and his whole body tremble. His chest was hurting, and there was a knot in his throat threatening to bring a tidal wave of cries. But it was merely a feeling. 

A  _ feeling _ . 

Something strange and new, perhaps even beautiful. And Justin was the one to make him feel, even when he thought he was numb in all regards. It was painful but he couldn’t let it go, couldn’t help but cherish it. It was something so humane, it felt calming, and reassuring. It made him feel alive. He was scared.

“I’m not him,” Justin said, steadying his voice to keep it from breaking. “I’ll be with you. I’ll share everything I have to make sure you’re content. My bed, my day, my heart, anything you want. Emmanuel please just let me love you, because I’ll keep doing it, and I’ll do it better than anyone else ever could.”

He couldn’t stop tears from spilling, warm on his cheeks and clouding his vision. He hadn’t expected it, and didn’t think it was possible, but through his own tears he saw identical ones on Emmanuel’s cheeks. It wasn’t an unconscious response without emotion. Nothing like the first time he’d seen tears on Emmanuel’s cheeks. These were something else, something beautiful and bare. They were hurriedly wiped away, as if Emmanuel wasn’t ready to accept them. 

“If you promise not to hate me or leave me when I destroy you, then I’ll let you have all of me,” Emmanuel smiled, genuinely. 

He let down his guard, stepping forward into Justin’s embrace. Even if it was hard to admit, Pedro had never done that for him. Cried for him. Loved him unconditionally. Held him for the sake of holding him. The warmth of blood had been replaced with the warmth of a touch, that stayed despite everything. 

“I promise,” Justin sobbed, holding Emmanuel tightly. 

“Then I’ll stay.” Emmanuel said.

He couldn’t have known, despite promising to accept it, they’d never reach the surface. 

  
  


***

2023

Golden rays of sunlight bathed the surfaces, almost in a utopic manner, and Justin could’ve easily let that sense of accomplishment drown him. A clear sky, untouched by pollution, having taken over the role of a lighthouse from the police headquarters. Open borders, and yet it was just the beginning. His reveries were promptly disrupted, and he reared in slight surprise at the approaching banter. 

“I already appointed myself maid of honor,” Morgan complained, ignoring Emmanuel’s deadly glare. “So you can’t stop me!”

Justin pinched the bridge of his nose paradingly, as to express his displeasure in regards to their bickering. He should have gotten used to it by now; Morgan’s childlike stubbornness and dauntless provocation, and Emmanuel’s indignant, arrogant replies. Their playful disputes never ceased to amuse him, however much it exhausted him to deal with.

“Who says we’re even having a maid of honor?” Emmanuel squinted as his teal gaze met the sun, outshining it with an adamant rigor. “Much less one who’s seen Justin’s private parts.”

“I-” Justin objected, before realizing that it was a valid point, even if the mention of his - as it had been stated - private parts, bothered him immensely.

Morgan seemed more or less ready to defend her argument though, and Justin wouldn’t be surprised if her insistence and wit managed to persuade even Emmanuel.

“I hardly remember at this point,” she shrugged in her usual careless fashion, much to Emmanuel’s discontentment. “If having seen his junk is a disqualifying factor then trust me you’ll never find a maid of honor.”

Justin found himself getting more demeaned the longer their quarrel went on, resulting in him being eager to put it to rest. How irritating, and he was having such a an enjoyable day up until then.

“Great,” Emmanuel answered, waving his hand dismissively before Morgan’s expectant demeanor. “I didn’t want one in the first place.”

She groaned in that same immature tone she carried in every discord of theirs. Justin couldn’t help but pity her, if only a little. Surely Emmanuel could let her have her way, just this once. His expression seemed to communicate this, and Emmanuel scoffed at his unspoken request.

“Then would you like it if I had Pedro walk me down the aisle?” He propositioned, knowing the effect that mention would have on their otherwise lighthearted disagreement.

“That’s hardly the same thing,” Justin argued, crossing his arms while Morgan immersed herself in the view of the sky. “But sure you can invite your parents if that’s what you want.”

Ah yes, what a fun way to dismantle that analogy. Emmanuel tilted his head lazily with a dissatisfied sigh, and Justin knew what it meant. Morgan also seemed to recognize the meaning, perking up with a wide grin nearly distorting her entire face.

“Fine,” he exclaimed, finally relenting with just the hint of a smirk - nonetheless present. “You can be the maid of honor.”

Morgan squealed happily, giving him a wet kiss on his cheek like an overjoyed puppy, before running off to do god knows what. Emmanuel made a show of wiping away the mark of her lipstick, waiting for Justin to praise his generosity. 

“I love you.”

“I know,” Emmanuel answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes that was the end  
> The next chapter will pretty much just be bonus smut, although I will admit it’s gonna be graphic to say the least.


	10. Epilogue

“I borrowed it from a privately operated treatment facility, specializing in studies regarding sexual deviancy in specifically individuals with antisocial personality disorder and sex offenders,” Justin said, setting up the suspicious looking machine on the desk.

Emmanuel raised an eyebrow in response to the last part of his statement, though Justin simply attributed it to the curiosity regarding the instrument he’d brought.

“It’s a PPG,” he clarified, untangling the wires, ignoring Emmanuel’s displeased reaction. “A phallometry I think would be the most accurate term.”

When Justin had required his assistance, this surely wasn’t what Emmanuel had expected. They were sitting in an empty office with a heavy grey interior of mundane characteristics, specifically picked because of the somewhat archaic drapes that hung heavy from the ceiling, covering the wall that was entirely window. Although the shielding of natural light wasn’t needed due to the rain and grey sky brought forth by it, what would go on inside the office was better left unseen. 

“What does it do?” Emmanuel asked, eyeing the instrument with a cautious frown.

Justin turned on the projector, leaving an image of the start screen of his computer to flicker on the bare wall. He sorted some papers and questionnaires on the desk while Emmanuel leaned back in his chair seated at a square table.

“If I called it an erectometer would you understand what the function is?” Justin asked, observing Emmanuel’s expression for sign of realization, though it appeared he wasn’t following. “It’s a machine that measures the magnitude of a man's erectile response to various sexual stimuli and is said to reveal his preferences or interests in particular sexual behaviours. Simply put; it measures blood flow to the penis.”

Emmanuel walked over to assess the apparatus, lips pressed in a tight line as if recalling something or reaching far back into his conscience in search of a memory.

“I think I’ve seen it before,” he mumbled, nodding slightly to himself as he crossed his arms. “They used these at the facility I was at before…”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Justin asked recognizing which facility Emmanuel was referring to, before he’d trailed off.

“Not really,” he answered, examining the machine with one last glance before focusing elsewhere. “I wasn’t subjected to it, however the older male patients were, and they were given an electric shock when responding sexually to depictions of violence.”

Justin flinched slightly, not really having expected such a response from Emmanuel who now seemed completely immersed with the memory. 

“I won’t be using torture methods on you, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Justin answered, though the falter of Emmanuel’s otherwise impassive expression hinted that his mind was never on that subject. “I do want to measure your reaction to certain categories of stimuli that would reveal sexual deviancy. I’ve studied the procedure and I’m authorized to carry it out if I have the ‘client’s’ consent.”

Emmanuel sat back down again, as he contemplated Justin’s supposed request and what it would entail. He looked up at Justin from under his lashes, with an innocent expression hinting no insidious intent, although it may have been there.

“What if you come to know something you don’t want to know?” He asked, tone benign but daring at its core. “Aren’t you scared?”

He hadn’t been before Emmanuel had asked if he was. It indicated that perhaps he should be, that perhaps he really would find something he didn’t want to know. However he maintained an unbothered demeanor, clearing his throat as he ignored what seemed to be a subtle warning from Emmanuel.

“Do I have your consent?” He asked, neutral in his tone, although Emmanuel would certainly look through it had he wished to.

“Sure,” Emmanuel simply answered as if he didn’t have anything better to do. “I’ll be your bunny.”

Justin caught himself in an almost patronizing smile, wondering if Emmanuel was really aware of what he was signing up for. Perhaps he was being submissive to tease Justin, although if that was the case then he wouldn’t deign it any further reaction.

“Pretty sure the term is ‘test rabbit’ if I’m not mistaken,” he merely nodded, picking up what appeared to be a small cuff, to which Emmanuel rather tentatively cast a curious glance. “It’s a strain gauge,” he explained. “Placed around the base to measure any alteration in size as you become increasingly… erect.”

Emmanuel gave him a very slow nod, eyebrow raised in a manner that told Justin any normal person would’ve already been out the door. He’d expected some resistance and surely he’d face it at some point, however for now Emmanuel seemed almost intrigued. He wasn’t sure whether or not that fact was something to be thankful for.

“The machine measures any changes and that way I can monitor how you respond to any given stimuli,” he continued, taking note of Emmanuel’s reaction to the information he was given. “I can put on the gauge for you.”

Emmanuel took off his coat, hanging it on the chair. Even though the temperature of the office made this move more or less disagreeable, his intuition told him that it wouldn’t be a problem if they kept going.

“That’s a bit counterproductive,” he chuckled, with a telling smile. “Don’t you think?”

It took Justin a few seconds before he realized what Emmanuel was trying to infer, and he promptly cleared his throat as to not let the image form in his head. He handed Emmanuel the strain gauge, figuring he would take care of it himself. 

“The base you said?” Emmanuel asked, unzipping his pants, and pulling up his shirt. 

Justin made an affirmative sound, sneaking a glance at him, almost disappointed to find that the table, and Emmanuel’s shirt covered what would’ve been the focus of that glance. He sat down at the desk, looking at the instrument to make sure it was configuring properly.

“How is it?”

“Well,” Emmanuel answered, considering as he shifted slightly in his seat. “Nothing I can’t manage.”

It was somewhat bothersome, and certainly it would become even more so once they got started. The material, although meant to allow further circumference, seemed unrelenting to the expansion if it occurred. Perhaps he was just being paranoid, but of course he wasn’t used to a foreign material being in such an intimate place.

“Let's get to it then,” Justin said, rubbing his hands together until he realized how nefarious the gesture appeared. “We’ll go through some categories, and when we’re done I’ll give you the results regarding your sexual deviancy.”

He turned to his computer, picking the prepared folder with the pictures fitting to each category they’d be reviewing. The first image was that of a crime scene, depicting a young man bound at the wrists and ankles, ruby blood licking along every feature and pooling where the dents indicated wounds. Emmanuel stared, not in a startled way, however completely neutral and Justin couldn’t say that he was surprised. Upon having first seen the image, his expression had merely curled into a frown, so naturally he’d expected the same from Emmanuel. There wasn’t much of a response, not on the phallometry either. He moved on to the next image, and the next after that, until determining that it was ineffective. At least so much so that Emmanuel appeared bored, or rather calm, in a way that could’ve been disturbing all on its own.

“We’ll move on to clips now,” Justin said, opening a new folder and picking the first clip in it.

His eyes would dart from the projection to Emmanuel’s unbothered gaze, fairly frequently, until he’d almost forgotten about the PPG which remained steady. He let his mind wander off, thoughts and worries fading from his conscience at every sound of a raindrop lightly tapping the window as if to be let in. And that’s when he noticed a spike, more discernible than anything he’d recorded earlier - almost austere. The line on the phallometry arched perfectly, and Justin tilted his head with intrigue. He looked up at the projection still flickering one of the clips, then redirecting that gaze towards Emmanuel to study his reaction, only to find out that he wasn’t paying attention to the clip. Teal eyes almost illuminating the rest of his features, sparking through the dim light, and blatantly fixated on Justin - so that was the cause of the spike.

“Focus,” he reprimanded, though rather idly.

The intense atmosphere resided, even as Emmanuel made an attempt to quell the gaze, daintily glowing. And so the curve slumped, while the teal settled at its usual saturation, however unparalleled that may have been. Justin took note of it then, as he hadn’t before, and perhaps wouldn’t have bothered to examine if he hadn’t seen it right then. Emmanuel’s eyes were the true indicator. Not just in terms of lust - although it certainly was of that as well - but of any and every sensation that may have presented itself within him. It was almost absurd how Justin hadn’t realized it sooner. It was a rare gesture, even if the fervor was constant, the teal hardly ever flared the way it would when Emmanuel was experiencing ire, lust, excitement and what not. It seemed evident, more than anything, it responded to Justin. 

“We’re done,” He said, clearing his throat to claim attention that he’d already attained. “I’ll give you the results, keep on the strain gauge though.”

Emmanuel wasn’t sure why Justin was asking him to keep it on, however he didn’t see much of a reason to question it. He merely waited for him to explain the results, even though assumptions were easy to draw, and he’d made a few already.

“No deviancy I’d imagine?” 

“Nothing too noticeable, no.” Justin confirmed, seemingly relieved. “The results go as follows; non-sexual violence, no response. Sexual violence, mild response. Non-sexual humiliation, very mild response. Sexual humiliation, moderate response. In the sexual violence category; torture of the victim, mild response. Ritualized violence, no response. Mutilation of erogenous zones, very mild response. Insertion of objects into various orifices, strong response. Your preference for the category involving penetration could definitely be regarded as reasonable, considering your usual sexual inclinations. Furthermore these results are common, especially in individuals with sadomasochistic tendencies.”

Emmanuel processed for a brief second, however he wasn’t afforded much of a break before Justin moved on to something he couldn’t have expected.

“By the way,” he said, keeping an eye on the phallometry as he continued. “I love you.”

His expression beamed with amusement as he saw the line spark, showing a stark response that had so far been unmatched. He smiled teasingly, directing his attention to Emmanuel’s contrasting frown.

“Affection, very strong response.”

“That’s not funny,” Emmanuel scoffed, apparently not finding Justin’s stunt to be entertaining. “You caught me off guard.”

Justin couldn’t help but grin widely, having discovered something so endearing. It made him eager to go even further, to draw out an even greater response. 

“You’re a real softie aren’t you,” he teased, as Emmanuel became increasingly bothered by his supposed delight with what he’d learned. “How cute.”

The comment seemed to tick off Emmanuel even more so than anything before that, and he was about to push back with a snarky retort, however Justin wasn’t done teasing him yet.

“I love you,” He smiled, with a soft expression that could’ve melted anyone. “I really, really love you.”

Even though Emmanuel’s displeased demeanor hinted that he was about to cringe, the PPG told a different story, and he promptly crossed his legs. How unfair. Justin failed in stifling a laugh and that’s when Emmanuel decided he’d had it. He reached down to take off the strain gauge, but it wouldn’t budge, and it was obvious he wouldn’t be able to get it off on his own. That didn’t stop him from continuing to struggle with it, reluctant to ask for help. 

“I forgot to mention,” Justin chuckled, as affectionately as he could manage. “I love every single thing about you.”

“Cut it out!” Emmanuel growled, frantically trying to release himself of the cuff, but eventually gave up with a strained expression on his face. “I can’t get it off.”

In tact with his irritation the rain poured down with more rigor, and the tapping against the window grew louder. Justin knelt in front of him, lifting the shirt to get a clear view. He removed the gauge with an ease that annoyed Emmanuel immensely, and he simply scoffed in response. 

“You insist on pretending you’re void of any warmth, that you’re above all the sappy stuff” Justin started, lacing fingers with Emmanuel’s with no resistance. “But I can tell how much it excites you to be told that you’re wanted, needed and adored. Of course, you need for someone to need you, and I’ll be that someone.”

He placed a gentle kiss along Emmanuel’s knuckles, peering into his ignited gaze. So he was right. 

“Now I know how to stir you up,” he whispered, tone dangerously alluring, and Emmanuel seemed to recognize the cadence as a near perfect replica of his own. 

“I’ll let you tease me just this once,” Emmanuel answered, easily and skillfully taking back the dominance as if it was routine. “The one you’re stirring up is yourself. You’re probably dripping right now, yet you have the nerve to toy with me? How indecent of you.”

He didn’t appear displeased however, certainly enjoying the provocation and eager to draw out the same irritation in Justin. Pushing him over the edge because, indeed, he was also stirred up. And it seemed he’d succeeded, when Justin pinned his wrists behind his back, bending him over the table like he’d done before under different circumstances. He pressed himself up against Emmanuel so that his hips were caught against the edge of the table. He ignored the gasp that ensued, working his own belt, and that sound seemed to strike a nerve in Emmanuel who broke his wrists out of the confinement before Justin pinned them down again. 

“You’d rather I be rough?” He asked, pulling Emmanuel’s pants down in a swift movement, and licking his fingers, before penetrating him. “I can be rough.”

He turned and twisted his fingers inside, pace fast, and Emmanuel so obscenely quiet he supposed they wouldn’t have to worry about being heard. The lack of Emmanuel’s voice, heaving, hissing, moaning or whimpering, was exceeding any other concern. He was craving that sign of pleasure, of vigor in their little play. Even a sigh of exasperation was enough if it dared make its occurrence, but it did not. So he went deeper, ramming his slightly bent fingers into the spot he’d gotten to know so well, with a deliberate aggressiveness that he knew would be painful to a certain extent - enough to be considered harsh, but not cruel. 

Save for the mild arching of his back, Emmanuel showed no reaction, at least nothing Justin took notice of, until the quivering of his legs made itself apparent. Where his wrists were held in place, hands fidgeted in a movement as if a pen was positioned between his fingers, scribbling with haste. The nervous quirk was an implicit sign, and one that Justin couldn’t with good conscience ignore. His initial assumption had been correct; Emmanuel was more inclined to appreciate an affectionate approach, even if he refused to admit it. In addition to that, Emmanuel had an unfortunate habit of simply enduring any treatment whether he enjoyed it or not. 

“That’s enough,” Justin sighed, letting go of Emmanuel’s wrists, before turning him around and supporting the back of his thighs as he sat him upright on the table. 

Emmanuel wasted no time clinging to him, as he so often would when they were like this. Tugging at Justin’s shirt, and pulling him closer, a bashful gesture that Justin found to be utterly endearing. And Emmanuel took notice of this. How Justin seemed especially content with his submissiveness, and perhaps he could make gain of this. So when thunder suddenly tore through the gentle tapping of the rain, bursting through the sky with a simple blink of light that contrasted vastly to the disruptive sound of the thunder; Emmanuel flinched deliberately, and Justin drew him into a protective embrace, taking advantage of the fragile moment to assert himself. He unbuttoned his shirt, as to let the warmth that radiated from him envelop Emmanuel, pressing their chests together as the shirt lay at each side of his waist grazing the table they were perched on. He almost didn’t realize how he’d lost himself in that movement, leaning over the table with his knee resting upon it. It was comfortable enough, at least sustainable. And since Emmanuel didn’t seem to mind the unconventional position, Justin went ahead and pushed himself inside, to which Emmanuel gasped innocently. 

“No one holds you like I do,” Justin growled with the strain, revealing how perfectly the situation suited him. “Don’t forget that.”

Emmanuel had succeeded in constructing a scenario in which the play for dominance had provoked Justin to a point of gratification. It was a fine balance that allowed Justin to be aggressive while maintaining his usual gentle manner, although Emmanuel had to relent a significant amount of control. He couldn’t deny that it was worth it however, seeing as Justin found satisfaction in the position Emmanuel had created for him. Stroking Emmanuel’s hair so carefully as their hips clashed. Justin held him closely, supporting the small of his back, and Emmanuel mirrored the movement. Legs trembling though locked tight around Justin’s waist to secure him in intimacy. They let their surroundings disperse, fading soothingly, until there was only the sounds they themselves were making, to the backdrop of rain falling now faintly. They continued like that, claiming each other completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the end of the fic. I hope everyone enjoyed because I certainly did enjoy writing it.
> 
> <3


End file.
